Encroaching Madness
by Fayth3
Summary: Sequel to the Darkness Within. 9 has taken over 10's body to save Rose. Now his mind is starting to show signs of cracking. Chapter 2 up rated T for violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Encroaching madness.**

**Part 1**

The Doctor stomped out of the TARDIS, a petulant expression on his boyish face. He let the door swing back so that it collided with the face of his giggling companion.

Rose grabbed the door before it could do any damage and tried to hold back her amusement at his reaction to her "innocent" enquiry.

He heard her muffled laughter and folded his arms with a huff.

"I'm sorry," Rose placated, attempting—and failing—to sound repentant. "Seriously though—"

"Its tradition!" he interrupted petulantly.

"But John Smith?" Humour was evident in her voice. "Come on!"

"There's years of tradition in that name." The Doctor turned to face her. "Centuries even. No one questions John Smith."

Rose wrinkled her nose. "But it's so boring. I mean, think about it, you could be anyone, yeah? You could come up with weird and wonderful names."

"Like Rose Tyler?" Amusement glittered in his eyes as Rose crept closer, laying her hand on his arm.

She beamed up at him. "Like anything, I dunno; Marco the deaf Italian, Hans the gay German."

He raised an eyebrow as he slipped an arm around her waist. "Gay?"

"Anything but John Smith."

He rolled his eyes and ducked in for a kiss.

It had been two months since the Doctor had ridden in on…well, a shiny blue split in the fabric of time and space, and rescued her from an alternate universe. Although she missed her family, to Rose it felt like coming home.

Well, coming home to a man that looked like her new new old boyfriend but who acted like her old old boyfriend. It was a source of worry for Rose that the Doctor was acting more and more like his previous self.

She had tried to bring up the changes again and again but it only seemed to make him even more unstable and so she set it aside; for now. It hadn't escaped her notice that he was not only avoiding the subject but he was not allowing her to talk to Jack.

Every time she suggested going back to visit the Time Agent the Doctor managed to entangle them in yet another adventure until she had forgotten her desire to get answers from the Captain.

Rose was certain now, that in his coming through the Rift to get her, he had risked more than the fabric of reality and was slowly coming unhinged—and she had no idea what to do about it.

With her he was tender and sweet if a little on the acidic side and he had an odd habit of phasing out, like he was listening to some inner dialogue. But with others he was guarded and sarcastic, unfriendly and territorial; Rose had to almost rein him back on several occasions and it was worrying her more than she let on.

Maybe soon she could convince the Doctor to let her see Jack, but for now they slid from one adventure to the next, just like old times; facing danger with a smile and a joke, just like days of old; held hands as they ran, just like before, and kissed like…well, that part was new.

In fact Rose was getting comfortable with the way the Doctor would slide his arm around her waist, letting his fingers trail across the curve of her jeans as the other hand tangled in her hair, dragging her lips to his surprisingly soft ones in heated abandon the moment the TARDIS doors closed.

She was quite content with her new physical relationship with the Doctor; she only wished that he would take it further. The Doctor, however, seemed like he was taking his sweet time before starting them on the next step to intimacy. It was almost like he was waiting for something, something Rose was clueless about. She only wished she knew what it was so that she could hurry it along.

--

The Doctor released her slowly, a satisfied look on his face at the dazed expression on hers. He poked her nose bringing her back to her senses. "All right, let's see where we are then."

Rose took in their surroundings, and for the first time, was not impressed.

"It's a bit dingy isn't it?"

And dingy it was: grey and dirty as only a major city could be. The stone brickwork on the houses was caked in mud and things best not looked at too closely.

The cobbled streets were grime-encrusted and stank with an acrid scent that clawed its way into your throat.

Rose clapped a hand to her mouth and tried not to gag. "That's sick!"

"No," the Doctor corrected, "that's the Thames."

Rose's eyes bulged. "What? We're in London?"

"Yep," the Doctor rocked on his heels and breathed deeply. "Early 17th century unless I miss my guess which, being brilliant, I don't."

Rose rolled her eyes but kept her hand clasped to her nose. "It stinks."

"Oi! That's your culture you're insulting," the Doctor replied archly.

"By my generation we'd invented the flush toilet," Rose said primly.

He smirked at her over his shoulder. "And how's that global warming going?"

Rose glared at his back as he inhaled deeply and she wondered if it was beneath her to poke her tongue out at him.

Instead she slipped an arm through his with a sly: "Well stink or not, yeah, at least it's not Cardiff."

It was his turn to glare as Rose grinned to herself.

"So," Rose encouraged. "Tell me about this time. 17th century?"

The Doctor tugged her in closer to him as he started to stroll through the dark London streets. "Oh, fascinating times these," he enthused. "Tudor and Stuart years were a laugh. You got your Spanish Armada, Civil War, The Black Death, plagues and boils, witch hunts and, of course, the Great Fire of London."

Rose paled and glanced back towards the TARDIS. "Well, that sounds like…fun. I'll wait for you here shall I?"

He grabbed her arm as she tried to slide it away. "And here was me thinking you liked adventure."

"Adventure, yeah," she retorted, "boils, plague and black death, not so much."

The Doctor continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Oh there were wonderful things that happened too. Shakespeare was around at this time."

Rose's eyes lit up. "Seriously? Could we—"

"No," he cut her off quickly, "William Shakespeare was a womanising ponce and you are going nowhere near him."

For a second Rose could see anger in his eyes but it was brushed away with an easy smile inviting her to share the joke.

Reluctantly Rose let it go and slid her hand into his hesitantly. "Okay, so what else?"

He pulled her back as three men in red soldiers uniforms ran past quickly, swords strapped to their sides and brandishing halberds and muskets. Their feet thundered on the cobblestones as they yelled out warnings to any in their way.

The Doctor and Rose waited until they had passed before continuing on.

"Uh, Galileo pioneered his theories that the Earth went around the sun and nearly got killed for it," the Doctor continued, "They started importing sugar. Just think Rose, before this time they'd had tea without sugar! Of course tea wasn't around until the later part of this century."

"Animals," Rose said with a shake of her head.

"And the music wasn't bad."

Rose wrinkled her nose as they stepped over a drunk vomiting into the gutter. "Didn't they sing ring o' ring o' roses?"

"Nah," the Doctor shook his head. "General ignorance, that one. That song went back as far as Massachusetts in 1790 and there are versions in French, German, American and Gaelic. Nothing to do with the plague whatsoever."

"You sure?"

He looked incredulously at her. "Rose Tyler are you doubting me?"

"Never!" she rolled her eyes.

"Good, because I was—"

But what he was Rose never got to find out. Having safely negotiated the piles of horse droppings in the middle of the street they were caught off guard as a man barrelled into them, sending the Doctor flying.

Rose grabbed at his arm to stop him falling into the filth of questionable origin smeared on the ground but the man was less lucky and slipped in the horse manure careening into the wall—head first.

The impact sounded like a dropped melon and he slid to the floor and lay still.

The Doctor righted himself and knelt over the prone man, feeling his pulse. "Unconscious," he decided. "Knocked himself out cold."

"He was in a right hurry," Rose observed flicking her hair over her shoulder to stare at him. "Wonder why?"

"Probably late home and figured the misses was going to give 'im hell."

Rose nudged him with her foot. "Doesn't look much like working class, though."

The Doctor bit his lip and ran a hand through his ruffled hair. She was right. The man was wearing clothes of much superior quality than those poorer men wore. His doublet was silk and matched his tights and tunic. His ruff was pristine, save for the manure smeared on it where he fell, and he was well groomed.

The Doctor stared at the man with a raised eyebrow. "What is a man of wealth doing down the back alleys of London?"

"Dunno. What are we going to do with him?" Rose asked. "We can't leave him here."

The Doctor agreed. A man with money wouldn't last long on these streets. "Let's find the local magistrate. If he's as well off as he looks he's as like to be some kind of bigwig. The judge should know who he is."

He leaned down and hefted the man onto one shoulder with Rose coming over to the other side to help prop him up.

--

Despite the late hour the streets of London were bustling with activity. Women in dresses of scarlet with eyes as hard as coals peddled themselves on the corner, while men in grubby clothes with desperate expressions searched their pockets for a few coins to buy them temporary oblivion—either in liquor or flesh.

Street urchins with filth encrusted faces danced between the pressed and dressed gentry, sometimes dipping a quick hand into an unwary pocket.

Raucous cheers came from well lit taverns as drunks were thrown out onto the streets. Fistfights and brawls spilled blood and more onto the cobbled stones whilst darkened faces slunk back into the shadows where a glint of silver was caught by lamp light.

In fact, the Doctor and Rose carrying an unconscious man barely merited a glance.

A coin bought the location of the local magistrate's place of business and a well placed elbow kept Rose from being pawed.

The door was opened by a servant only too eager to fetch her master who was still awake and dressed despite the advanced hour.

"Yes?" he asked imperiously his eyes taking in the three people at his door.

"Sorry it's late, mate," the Doctor said, "But we found this bloke unconscious and wondered if he were, by any chance, a friend of yours?"

Rose rolled her eyes. So much for convincing the magistrate that they were gentry!

The magistrates face changed from open distrust to one of reluctant interest. "Please, come in."

They carried the man into the gloomy home of the magistrate.

"Please forgive my manner," the magistrate apologised as they walked through the long hallway and he ushered them into the parlour. "There is an ill wind tonight and it hastens with it mistrust."

"Trouble?" the Doctor asked cheerfully as they deposited the man on a large beech table that took up most of the room.

"With you, is there anything else?" Rose muttered as the magistrate fumbled with an oil lamp on the table.

As the magistrate turned around Rose could see that he was a portly man with a huge jowls. His robes were stained but expensive and there was an air of nervousness about him that she immediately didn't like. He reminded her a little of that Bishop from Robin Hood, the one who was in Alan Rickman's pay. The very thought made her flesh crawl and she stepped back quickly wondering if it was safe to leave their cargo here.

The Doctor just sniffed and rolled the unconscious man over.

The magistrate peered at him before doing a double-take. "Upon my soul, it's Sir Digby!"

"So you do know 'im?" the Doctor asked.

The magistrate nodded. "Yes, yes. Sir Everard Digby, one of the most distinguished men at court. A fantastic swordsman, musician and a wonderful horseman. A real credit to our country."

"Terrible sense of balance though," the Doctor muttered even as he frowned. Sir Everard Digby sounded so familiar. Why did he know that name?

The magistrate looked the two of them over. "You found him, you say?"

The Doctor nodded still wondering at the identity of the man.

The magistrate smiled weakly. "And might I have the pleasure of your names?"

"I'm John…" the Doctor caught Rose's smirk before he could finish his usual pseudo name and bit back the words. "John…uh, John Johnson."

Okay, it was pathetic but it was a start.

"I see," said the magistrate slowly. "And you Miss—?"

"Rose," she replied automatically and the Doctor gave her a knowing look. She cursed silently and searched around the room for inspiration. Her eyes fell on the table. "Wood. Rose… Wood."

The magistrate gave her a calculating look. "Rose Wood."

"That's right," Rose said defensively.

The magistrate nodded and walked over to the door where the servant stood like a statue. He leaned down and whispered something to her as the Doctor and Rose exchanged uneasy glances.

The servant ran off and he turned back to them. "I've instructed my servant to prepare a meal for us. Sir Digby is one of my favoured parishioners and I know he would want me to thank you for your assistance."

"Very kind."

"Wine?" the magistrate gestured to a large decanter of wine and started to pour three glasses.

"_I wouldn't touch that if I were you,"_ said a voice inside the Doctor. He sighed.

It had been at least two days since he had last heard the voice of his inner prisoner and he had hoped that it would be more before he had the pleasure of his future self's dulcet tones.

He inhaled and spoke internally. "Thanks for that, I might never have been suspicious of him if it wasn't for you."

"_Oh all right, play it your way, but don't come crying to me when he poisons you and runs off with Rose."_

The Doctor felt his temper start to rise; a common side effect of dealing with his alter ego. "Unlike you, pansy, I don't cry. And the last thing I'd do is let Rose run off with someone. That's more your deal, isn't it?"

The voice was silent—briefly. _"Just don't drink the damn wine, all right?"_

The Doctor offered a suggestion that was immoral and possibly biologically impossible before turning back to the conversation at hand.

Rose stared at him oddly. He'd been staring off into space again. "You okay?"

"Yep," he said with a manic grin. "So, we'll be off then. Places to see and all that."

"Please stay," the magistrate said smoothly. "I'm sure Sir Digby would wish to thank you in person."

Now Rose was more than slightly apprehensive. The magistrate seemed to want them to stay rather badly and she had a sneaking suspicion that the servant wasn't going to bring her a cheeseburger.

"Nah, really we gotta go," she said and made a move towards the door. Before she could take more than a step towards it, there was a loud bang as the door flew inwards and several armed soldiers stormed into the room.

The Doctor grabbed Rose's hand and pulled her against him.

A man dressed in soldier's regalia strode into the room and pointed a long sword at the Doctor. "Stay yourself!"

"Good advice," the Doctor said pleasantly.

"This is they," the magistrate moved out of the way. "Bold as brass did they confess their identities. This is John Johnson and his accomplice Ambrose Rookwood who brought Sir Everard Digby here to me."

"Rose Wood!" Rose insisted but the soldiers ignored her.

The head guard seemed to find the magistrate every bit as slimy as Rose did and he wrinkled his nose at the fat man.

"Your loyalty will, no doubt, be rewarded by his Majesty."

"Just doing my duty," simpered the magistrate.

"Excuse me, but what are we supposed to have done?" Rose asked, not liking the way the guns were pointed at her in such a small space.

The guard faced her. "You are under arrest," he stated firmly. "For the attempted murder of the King."

Rose's eyes widened. "You what? I don't even know who the King is!"

The guard smiled thinly. "Then you shall meet him." He gestured to the soldiers who grabbed Rose.

It was as the men hauled them both towards the door that the name suddenly clicked in the Doctor's mind and he groaned.

John Johnson and Ambrose Rookwood were collaborators of one of the most famous assassination plots in England.

This was not going to end well.

"What?" Rose looked over her shoulder. "What?"

He rubbed at his ear. "You're going to laugh when I tell you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Rose slammed her hands against the bars and glared out at the city of London beneath her.

How on Earth did she get herself into these situations?

"Rose?"

Ah, that was how. That man sitting in the cell next to her, manacled to the floor.

She said nothing, tapping her hands on the cold stone wall.

"Rose?"

Nothing. She wasn't talking to him, the…the…Time Lord!

"Come on Rose, how was I supposed to know?"

She huffed and leaned her head against the stone. Sure, his magic box and he didn't know where they were going.

"You know, you've met two monarchs now," the Doctor said conversationally.

Rose spun on her heel, almost slipping over on the mixture of straw and mouse droppings that coated the floor. "Yeah, I've been banished by one and thrown into the bloody Tower of London by the other!"

Rose gestured to their prison and the Doctor had the decency to look sheepish.

In fact he pouted and looked downright miserable; Rose hadn't the heart to continue being mad at him and so she sighed, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.

"Sorry, 'sjust it'd be nice, yeah, to meet someone who didn't want to shoot us."

"They don't want to shoot us, Rose," the Doctor said softly. "They want to torture us, make us confess and then hang, draw and quarter us."

Rose groaned. "Thanks."

"I won't let them," he promised and wriggled his hands.

"Got some magic up your sleeves?"

"I can be inventive!" he protested.

Rose gave him a scathing look. "John Johnson?"

"All right, how was I to know I'd landed us right in the middle of the Gunpowder plot, Amb_rose_ Rook_wood?_"

"Don't start with me!" Rose demanded. "I never did history anyway. I just made fun of the outfits."

They sat silently staring at the still prone form of their newfound 'friend' Sir Everard Digby.

"Okay, it was nice to meet the King. Sort of, you know except for the actual sentencing to death part."

And it had been. King James was, all in all, as Monarchs go, not too bad.

He wasn't overly obese nor excessively smarmy. He was regal and seemed to Rose to be more than a little out of his depth. He looked as if he'd much rather be trying on clothes or something and Rose didn't blame him.

He'd questioned them about barrels of powder and the lodgings beneath the Houses of Parliament under the name John Johnson. It wasn't long before it hit Rose and she turned around to glare at the Doctor.

"I am quite perturbed," The King had said. "For we have yet another member of your party claiming to be John Johnson, now to which of you is the name belonging?"

"Him," the Doctor said promptly, "It's a very popular name, not as popular as say, John Smith, but my parents lacked imagination."

"And I'm Rose Tyler-Wood," Rose interjected. "Not Ambrose, that's a bloke's name."

The King deliberated. "Mayhap you were in the wrong place at the wrong time and yet there is something of the unusual about you. Perhaps you are witches?"

There were hisses in the courtroom and Rose shook her head. "No."

She summoned up every last piece of training that she had received at Torchwood and straightened "If it please you, my liege, may I approach your majesty?"

He inclined his head and Rose stepped forwards, before dropping a curtsey. "Neither witch nor warlock, assassin nor treason. My friend and I were embroiled by accident and the mistaken gesture of kindness towards someone we thought unfortunate. Do not let an act of kindness become a reason for death."

The Doctor looked impressed at Rose's words. She had grown up a lot since he'd lost her and her speech was almost worthy of him.

He stood up. "Might I add something?"

Rose closed her eyes. "Do you have to?"

He sniffed. "Everyone's a critic."

"Hey, I remember the Lion King speech, alright?"

The Doctor brushed a manacled hand through his hair and smiled broadly. "My name is the Doctor and I am not a collaborator and, quite frankly, got nothing to do with the plot to kill you. Got nothing against you, me. Plus never had much luck with gunpowder. Me and my companion were just in the wrong place at the wrong time and while it's stupid, it's not a crime."

The King stared at him. "Your impassioned speeches do you credit and yet you speak not as commoners though your garb is strange. A quandary is before me and I must deliberate. Take them to the Tower."

"Oi!" the Doctor managed before they were carted off to the Tower of London.

Their cells were separated and in the one next to Rose lay Sir Digby. The figure in the cell by the Doctor was napping quite peacefully and Rose nodded towards him. "Who's that?"

The Doctor peered over. "It's a man."

She rolled her eyes. "Glad I got you with me."

"Madam," said the man who wasn't as asleep as they thought, "I am a fellow prisoner, although one of greater standing with man and deity and I wish to sleep, for tomorrow they try to break me."

"For what?"

The man rolled over and sat up, facing the two travellers. "Why, for the attempted death of that traitor James."

"Traitor?"

"He betrayed the Catholics through his vices and covered his sins with a face patch," he spat. "Fie on him and his soul."

Rose edged away from the angry, obnoxious, and possibly insane man. "So he, what, banned you?"

"A banning of our own religion and a tax if caught and yet he lines his pockets for his country. A plague on him and his land. Had I my way we would have blown them all back to Scotland!"

"You'd be Guy Fawkes, than," the Doctor said coolly.

"Yay, I am he. I shall be known throughout the land."

"You'll be a crispy scarecrow every year," Rose muttered and shivered. "So you tried to blow them all up because the King wouldn't allow you freedom of religion?"

"And because they got drunk at the Duck and Drake and didn't want to back out and lose face," the Doctor said in an aside. "But the plan failed because someone tipped them off."

"It failed," said a weak voice from the floor, "because it was God's will."

"Hah," scoffed Guy Fawkes as he glared contemptuously at Sir Digby. "The Devil and not God was the discoverer."

"Nice man," Rose said softly. "Bit barmy, ain't he?"

"Takes a special kind of nut case to try to blow up Parliament."

"Oh I don't know, you didn't hear Blair and Jones's last speeches together. Harriet and Tony- sick making it was." She shuffled closer to the Doctor's cell. "So," she whispered. "What happens to them now?"

"Fawkes gets tortured, starting tomorrow," the Doctor said quietly and sadly. "Everard gets away and manages to get as far as the country where he meets up with the others before surrendering."

"Everyone involved dies?"

"Yep."

Rose bit her lip. "And us?"

Before he could answer the door swung open and four guards walked in.

They strutted like peacocks in their red uniforms, proud and haughty relying on the swords that hung from their belts to garner respect. Each had a menacing grin plastered on his face. The four men each spat on the floor outside Fawkes's cell and sneered at him.

"Traitor!" they hissed. "The King shall have his pleasure in your demise."

"But first you'll enjoy a long stretch here," one sniggered.

Another snorted. "Far longer than you thought, methinks."

"Heard tell that some gain up to a league of health."

"So silent, foul knave? Has the gunpowder caught your tongue?"

"Ay, but give him into the hands of our friend downstairs and soon he'll be a popinjay!"

"Mayhap he'll favour a whipping with the bastinado."

There was more laughter and none of it kind.

"Doctor," Rose whispered, "What do they mean?"

"The rack," he said with pity towards Fawkes. "He gets tortured."

Rose bit her lip. The man had been arrogant to the point of rude, but no one deserved torture. "Isn't there something we can do?"

But the Doctor was shaking his head. "Not unless you want to risk Reapers again. These events are set; they have to happen. Remember, remember the fifth of November, Rose."

Rose shivered. She did. Somehow the idea of a bonfire, burning the guy and watching the fireworks was no longer as appealing as it was most years.

One of the guards looked over at the movement and spotted Rose sitting in her cell. He leered. "Well, well, the Lord is kind. Have we another traitor here?"

Rose shrank away as all eyes turned to her.

"Nay, one with such beauty could not turn on the crown. Unless she a Catholic or Jesuit?"

Rose shook her head. "Never really went to church, me."

A guard leaned on the edge of the cell nonchalantly. "Godless then and a turn for us. There be no retribution on a heathen."

"What?"

The guard simply leered and fetched the cell keys from the wall.

"Nay, Garen," one of his friends caught his elbow. "The King reserves judgement on her and her companion. If they are pardoned the King will not look lightly on any who used her ill."

Bah!" another snorted. "In cloth of that cut she is not a Lady."

"Morcan speaks true, Drayfuss," the one called Garen added with a nasty smile. "She dresses of upper rooms yet her air is one of the gutter. Speaks she like a common fish wife. For my part I see something of the Hecat about her."

The fourth guard's eyes flew wide. "Pray not mess with witches, Garen. They'll send you to Bedlam."

Garen just snorted and headed for Rose's cell, the key in his hand.

While the others looked on Garen started to unlock her cell.

Rose clambered to her feet and leaned against the stone wall. "Wait, what are you doing?"

"Would you deny us our sport?" Garen sneered. "Let us make merry, wench. Your temple is plausive to the eye."

"My temple will kick your arse if you touch me," Rose promised and balled her hands into fists.

The Doctor surged to his own feet and grabbed the bars. "Leave her alone. Don't touch her, I mean it!"

"You speak a good deal, stranger. But the bars be more my friend than yours."

As he reached for her Rose fell back on the self-defence training that Torchwood had given her and she punched him straight in the face. His head snapped back and he yowled in pain. Her grin of satisfaction lasted seconds as he turned back and grabbed her wrist in a vice like grip. Rose kicked his shins and wriggled away but he kept his body at an angle to avoid her, forcing her hand behind her back. His breath was hot and fetid against her cheek and he licked her, sending shudders of revulsion down her spine.

Rose twisted quickly, her breathing steady and brought a knee sharply into his groin.

Garen hissed and buckled.

The guard Morcan laughed. "Be she too much a handful, Garen?"

He made his way into the cell as Garen backed away from an irate Rose, rubbing his crotch.

"A she-demon," Garen spat. "Needs a lesson."

Morcan grinned. "I was always a good teacher."

Before Rose could move Morcan, who was faster and more spry than Garen, had her in his arms in a lock.

Rose kicked and fought but the man was too strong for her.

Garen smirked. "That's more to it!"

"Doctor!" Rose tried to pull away but Morcan had her hands in a vice-like grip and all she could do was kick wildly at Garen, biting and trying to use every bit of her power to make him leave her alone. It was no use, Garen tore at her clothes and Rose screamed in anger and fear.

The men in the cell were so focused on Rose that they didn't see the hardening of the Doctor's suddenly blue eyes. They didn't see him move to his own cell door with the speed of light nor did they see the way the bars seemed to melt away in front of him.

The first they knew of his escape was when a hand touched Rose's thigh only to be ripped away by fingers of steel.

Garen gaped as the Doctor roared and slammed him against the wall. Stunned at the sudden appearance of this spectre, he blinked in astonishment as the Doctor pulled back his arm and slammed a fist into his face.

Blood exploded from his broken nose and he yelped in pain, hands flying to protect his face. Flabby arms tried to punch out at the Doctor but the Doctor was too busy to care about the small hint of defiance. He tore into the man with every appearance of a machine. Again and again he plunged his fist into the guard's face, the sounds of flesh splitting and blood flying echoing in the room.

The other guards were too stunned to move as this dervish ploughed into their fellow comrade.

But as Garen finally succumbed to unconsciousness and slid, motionless, to the straw covered floor, the remaining three guards sprung into action.

Morcan dropped Rose and threw her to the ground. He swung wildly at the Doctor but the Doctor ducked under his arm and was behind him before Morcan had finished spinning.

With the other two guards racing towards them, the Doctor grabbed the cell door and swung it hard into the face of the oncoming man letting it rebound off his face with a deafening yet sickening crunch. Drayfuss reared back, grabbing his nose and let the next guard take the lead.

He raised his sword and thrust at the Doctor but the steel glanced off the Doctor's shoulder like he was wearing armour. The Doctor grinned maliciously as the guard stared with confusion at the errant blade.

Then he just _looked_ at the steel.

The guard dropped the sword and screamed, staring at his smoking hand, the flesh bubbling and boiling with the heat. While he was preoccupied the Doctor grabbed his chest and spun him around with his back to Rose. He threw the man into the charging Morcan and barely winced at the sound of two heads cracking together.

Blood seeped down Morcan's chin as he turned to the Doctor.

"You are a devil."

"Time Lord," the Doctor corrected and kicked sawdust from the grimy floor into his eyes. Morcan roared in anger and his hands flew to his face scrabbling around.

The only unnamed guard rushed towards the Doctor, righteous indignation filling his face and twisting it with rage but the Doctor was cool, calm and certifiable. He didn't even pause but with a quick step he smashed his fist into the face of the man and followed it with a jolt to the knee cap. With a sharp crack something gave way and the guard stumbled, falling to the floor.

He looked up in time to see the pretty blonde lady hit him over the head with the hilt of his sword. He passed out.

Morcan slipped over the prone body of his friend and careened head-first into the stone wall rendering himself unconscious.

Rose smiled and turned to congratulate the Doctor on his left hook only to stop dead.

The Doctor had the remaining guard—Drayfuss—up against the cold stone wall, his hand wrapped firmly around his throat.

His feet didn't touch the ground and his toes scratched for purchase on the stones, occasionally nudging the unconscious body of Garen who was still enjoying the state of oblivion.

"That," the Doctor said pleasantly, "wasn't a good idea."

Drayfuss felt the man's finger's tense as they bit into his tender throat. Air couldn't make it through and his eyes bulged as he scrabbled for the Doctor's hand.

"Arresting traitors is one thing, raping innocent girls is another." The Doctor spoke like they were out for an afternoon stroll, sweetness and light in his voice. But his eyes were hard and full of hate and pain and death and Drayfuss whimpered at the sight of hell in cold blue eyes.

"Now you were against it, I know, but you didn't stop it. Passivity is just as bad as the deed. If you have free will then use it for good. If you know something's wrong then you should fight against it." The Doctor smiled humourlessly. "Like murder, murder is wrong. Would you stand by and let it happen?"

Drayfuss wheezed and clawed at the Doctor's hand, his face turning purple, eyes wide and panicked.

"I think you would," the Doctor hissed and drew his face in so close that Drayfuss could see every single pinprick of fire in that gaze. The world was becoming hazy and the edges of his vision turned grey.

He felt something touch his hip and watched as the Doctor released his sword from its sheath.

"You were so up on your religious mantra," the Doctor hissed as cold as the ice creeping through Drayfuss's veins. "How about this one? 'Vengeance is mine' says the Lord!"

With clinical precision, the Doctor thrust the hard metal sword deep into the belly of Garen

Red liquid spurted like a geyser out of the guard's red tunic to pool on the floor.

The Doctor dropped Drayfuss like a stone. He gasped and sputtered for breath, his eyes on the metal protruding from the body of his fellow guard.

The Doctor bent down. "Remember the fifth of November."

And with that he hit Drayfuss round the back of the head.

Drayfuss fell face-first onto the straw and didn't move.

The Doctor straightened and then sniffed with no little disgust at the smears of blood on his fist.

Rose stared horrified at the carnage. It hadn't even taken five minutes for the Doctor to dispatch his enemies

_Don't say kill_

He'd gotten them all down in less time—

_Don't say kill_

–than it took her to blink.

Garen's body lay at her feet, sword sticking up straight and true. A puddle of red surrounded him and his eyes were glassy and staring. He wasn't blinking.

He had a sword in his gut and he wasn't speaking, or winking.

_Dead_

"Rose?"

Rose shuddered.

"Rose?"

"Yeah!" she said quickly, her voice rising hysterically.

"We have to get out of here."

Rose's frantic gaze rose to meet the Doctor's. For a moment she could have sworn they were blue but her mind wasn't through paying tricks on her. He looked like he was out for an evening stroll. He looked unruffled and smooth; you'd never believe that he had just—

"I think I'm gonna be sick," she managed.

The Doctor looked at her with sympathy. "Probably shock. Come on, Rose."

He held out his hand. It was covered in blood.

For the first time in her life, Rose didn't want to take it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Somewhere inside the man currently masquerading as the Doctor lay a small white cell with a bed and table and a man who was as still as the grave.

The Doctor, who was a prisoner of his previous self, had been there when Rose had been captured. He had watched and screamed as those men assaulted her and he had been struck with horror as his body started to viciously attack those men.

In all of his years, all 900 odd of them, he couldn't remember fighting like that.

It was the one thing he prided himself on, his pacifism.

He'd seen mighty men order the deaths of hundreds of civilians, he'd seen megalomaniacs torture and kill, he'd watched genocides and assassinations and all manner of degradations and he'd prided himself that he was different.

Oh yes, he'd struck people in anger, he'd even been in a fight or two, but he'd never…had he?

The Doctor swallowed. He'd felt like it sometimes. There had been times when some alien had forced him beyond what he could bear and he'd wanted to lash out; times when someone's callous disregard for their planet or people had made him want to beat some sense into them but he hadn't… not without giving them a chance.

One chance.

He pushed aside the thoughts of the Racnoss and her children screaming as they died, or the Sycorax falling to his death. He'd given them a chance. He had no alternative. The Earth had been at stake and there had been no other way.

Although his conscience pricked him, the Doctor was able to keep those thoughts at bay.

After all it wasn't like he could actually see their blood on his hands. Not like now.

But this—

In anger he turned and kicked the wall of the prison he had been unable to figure a way out of.

He looked down at his own hands, expecting them to be covered in blood. How could any version of himself be that brutal? Or chose violence over other methods? There was always a way if you just cared to look for it. Where was his mercy? That man had been beaten unconscious and he'd…he'd…

_Killed him_. Stabbed him with a sword and let him die. There had been no need, the man was hardly a threat and yet he was dead. One less man makes the world a different place, even if that man was a low grade scumbag.

It was against all of his principles and the Doctor, for once, didn't know himself.

This version was swiftly becoming a new man; a man he didn't really want to know.

He raked a hand through his unruly hair and scratched the back of his neck in frustration.

How could he figure out the mind of his younger self if that person was slowly dissipating?

There was a sound, a very slight almost inaudible rumble, like a train coming from far away.

It got louder and the Doctor stared dead ahead. He could feel vibrations coming from all sounds and it was getting louder, coming closer.

The whole room began to shake and dust filtered down in a fine film from the ceiling.

As the noise erupted into a roar the Doctor held his hands over his head and braced himself.

Then, as quickly as it had started, the sound stopped and silence was only broken by a few dust particles still raining down.

The Doctor looked up and his eyes lit on a spot on the very white wall that was no longer so white.

A tiny, tiny fracture appeared on the surface of the wall; a hairline crack no bigger than his finger. But, as he watched, spider-like threads began to show. The crack grew bigger, now the size of his fist, now his arm, now his body. The crack was now a spider-web of little cracks, reaching out small tentacles in all directions filling the wall with dark creepy fingers.

He stepped back as the whole wall resembled a map of the London underground, filled from ceiling to floor with ruptures and breaks. A piece of plasterboard came away and struck the ground with a resolute thud and all was silence again.

The Doctor stared bewildered at this new development.

His cage had all but started to crumble away. Why, it was like… His eyes widened.

It was like his outer self was losing control, not just of his own emotion but of the inner world where he had held so much power.

He was losing power over _himself_.

A slow smile started to spread over the Doctor's face and he felt strengthened.

It was time.

-----

Rose stared at the Doctor from the corner of her eye. She was feeling more than a little uneasy as she watched him lean against the wall, studiously ignoring her.

She hadn't been able to say more than a word to him since he'd let old Sir Digby go and bowed graciously to Guy Fawkes as they left him in the cell to be tortured… next to the cell full of dead and unconscious men that the Doctor had—

_Don't think about it._

She rubbed her hands together wondering why they were cold.

Rose had known that the Doctor wasn't quite right ever since he'd arrived in Pete's world. Oh, he still looked like the same man with his cute ears, ruffled hair and bony wrists but that was where the similarities ended.

The leather jacket and deepening northern accent had been her first clues that all was not well and it had just escalated.

It had been quite a shock for her to see the Doctor almost the same withdrawn, subdued man he'd been before his regeneration and though he'd refused to discuss it, Rose knew that they had to talk about it now.

It was evident that whatever the reason for his relapse it was getting worse—much worse. At first he was merely laconic and taciturn, but he'd started staring off into space at random moments, like he was listening to some inner dialogue; then he stared glaring at any male who so much looked at Rose, and now he was losing his temper in a violent explosion to such an extent that he…

She swallowed. It was scaring her, and the one thing the Doctor had never done was frighten her.

"Take a picture," he said suddenly, starling her, "it'll last longer."

Rose bit her lip. "Will it? Or will you change before I can get the camera out?"

The Doctor stiffened. He'd known that he couldn't hide his true nature for long, not from Rose. But he had hoped that he'd have longer with her before having to admit the truth.

Rose was tenacious and wouldn't let go of this until she knew what he was hiding, he knew, but he couldn't do it just yet. He couldn't let her go.

He tried to go on the offensive to maybe deflect her.

He turned to her, arms folded and face set. "What's that supposed to mean?"

They stared at each other in silence, emotion taut.

Rose broke first. "What happened to you, Doctor? And don't give me any crap about it being because you missed me. This is deeper than that. You've changed—really changed and I want to know why."

"Why?" he shot back. "What difference does it make? I'm still the same Doctor."

"Are you?" Rose cried. "Because that," she pointed to the door, "that wasn't you. You don't beat someone to d—" She swallowed feeling sick to the stomach at the thought of his actions back at the Tower. "You're acting like, God, I don't even know."

"What? I'm not the prissy pretty boy you're used to?" he interrupted bitterly. "What am I acting like, hmm? Old big ears maybe? Doesn't the face go with the personality, Rose? Didn't think you were that shallow."

She looked away, hurt. "That's not it."

"Isn't it?" he pushed. "You say it doesn't matter who I am, Rose, what I look like. But you never wanted me… the other me. You never tried to start anything with him, did you?"

"Would you have let me?" she snapped. "Walls a mile high, he had, and you know it. He was a prickly sod wouldn't accept that anyone could love him."

The Doctor huffed. "You didn't try."

"You weren't looking!" she yelled, startling him. "All that stuff about dancing and better with two. I trusted him with my life verses the end of the world and he wasn't listening." She pointed emphatically at him, her hands trembling as she fought back the urge to slap his arrogant face. "Don't start with me about this. I loved him."

He was gob smacked as much for her revelation as her forceful manner. He was reminded suddenly that Rose had been a kind of leader of Torchwood. His little Rose had definitely grown up.

He recovered quickly, his mind fixed on a long scarf and a view screen image which still had the power to hurt. "Oh and what about Mickey the idiot, hey? You and him going off to find a hotel room was your way of saying you love me then, was it? And Jack and Adam?"

Rose folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Are we going to start this? Because I have Lynda and Reinette as my back up, mate, and that's just the start."

He opened and closed his mouth. Okay, fair point. "Forget that, you were trying to flirt with them in front of me."

Rose rolled her eyes. "I was 19, you idiot, I was trying to make you jealous so you'd make a move. Teenager!"

He looked away.

Rose sighed and rubbed her face. This was getting them nowhere and had nothing to do with what she was really worried about.

"I just," she paused and then started again. "I just need to know that you're ok. I'm worried about _you, _Doctor. Cuz this—" she gestured to him "—isn't like you, either version, okay. You don't go psycho and attack people. You stare off into space for ages. And you don't frighten me."

His head shot up. "What?"

Rose gnawed on her bottom lip but her eyes were intense on his. "You killed someone, Doctor. Stabbed him through the heart with a sword. You scared me."

He strode over to her and grabbed her chin, raising her eyes to his. Concern and contrition were written all over his familiar face. "Rose it's me," he said softly. "I'm the Doctor. Whatever body I'm wearing, it's me. I'm still the Doctor and I love you, my little ape. I promise you I'm okay."

Rose swallowed. "Promise?"

He pulled her into his arms and wrapped her tightly against him. "I promise, I'm a little off, but it's still me."

Rose leaned into him and waited for him to exhale with hard eyes.

It was still him. Still the man who held her when her father died. The same man who loved her with enough intensity to make her stutter. The same man who saved her again and again. The same man who had run for his life with her hand in his.

The same man who held his breath when he lied.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

When a Time Lord took on the responsibility of a TARDIS he allowed it to bond with his mind. When that man and that machine are the last two of their kind in existence that bond is one of the strongest in the universe.

In such a partnership there was a certain amount of give and take. The Doctor's TARDIS had decided that she had given all that she could and could take no more.

It was hard enough being the last sentient TARDIS in this reality but when the Time Lord who was supposed to be taking care of her was blocking half of his mind from her neural receptors, well, it was like a lover suddenly giving you the cold shoulder.

She held no resentment against Rose being back; indeed she adored the little gold child for how she reacted to the blue box and how she made the Doctor feel. But there was something not quite right about the ways and means that the golden child had been reunited with the Doctor.

After trying to access the Doctor's mind once again, and being rebuffed from the latent memory, the TARDIS had had enough.

With sparkling tendrils she slunk inside the deepest memories of the Doctor and wound her way through neural pathways and subconscious desires.

She slunk through his childhood on Gallifrey and felt a pang at the fields of growing TARDIS'S where she had spent many happy centuries. She tiptoed through his college years and his hasty departure from his home planet with Susan in tow.

His adventures parted before her and she spent precious nanoseconds in nostalgia of some of those who had graced her walls; Sarah Jane, Jo, Ace, Harry, Adric, Dodo, Nyssa, Mel and so many others whose brief lifespan had ended years before.

The war with the Daleks and the resulting obliteration of Gallifrey and the Time Lords was passed with pain and she crept through his mind reverently so as not to disturb these excruciating reminiscences.

Then she came to his ninth regeneration and subsequent actions.

Had she eyes they would have widened. Had she a jaw it would have dropped when she relived the regeneration into the tenth self and watched as the remnants of the man he was hang around, desperate and lonely beyond all telling.

She gazed in appalled bewilderment and dawning horror as the particles of the man became solid, strengthened, manifested into more than a personality and started to lose its fragile grip on sanity. Then finally took over, trapping his tenth personality away in a hole in his mind.

A hole she could find and had the key for.

The TARDIS had always been loyal to the Doctor, to the extent of letting the golden child crack open her heart and tear time apart to save him. Maybe that was a little selfish since she had no desire to be left on her own without even a Time Lord to keep her company; but she had still saved him.

And she would save him again.

With what would have been a deep breath in a human expression she allowed herself to sink into the subconscious mind and discovered an iron door deep in the psyche of the Doctor. A locked iron door.

Inside that room the Doctor was still staring in fascination at the cracks in the wall, wondering how he could press this to his advantage.

It was a testament to his powers of concentration that it was several seconds before he realised that someone was standing behind him.

His back stiffened. "Come to see what your little temper tantrum has done, have we?" he sneered. "That was just like you, blunder in with your size twelve's and make a right royal mess of everything. Taking over from you was no picnic ya know, in fact I probably got an ulcer… no, two ulcers from your mess. Two ulcers and a bad twitch whenever the word 'fantastic' is mentioned. Talk about over-using a word, you could—"

He turned around and his mouth stopped mid-sentence—something practically unheard of.

"Rose?"

Standing in front of him was his Rose. His beautiful Rose with her soft smile and kind eyes. His rosy sweet Rose dressed in jeans and hoodie with silky blonde hair spilling in a golden halo around her face.

She was amazing, and beautiful and… glowing?

Rose was surrounded by an ethereal glow.

His hearts skipped a beat as he stared and the welcoming smile slid from his lips. The golden glow was quite the clue that all wasn't as it seemed. He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels, a frown on his face.

"Not Rose then. Subconscious manifestation? Ghostly echo? Neural blip? Or am I finally going crazy? No?" He sniffed. "I know; you're a by-product of latent energy left over from Rose's previous expenditure of artron energy manifested into corporealisation in order to haunt me… if corporealisation is a word, which I doubt. But it is better than correctamundo. You know how I know you're not really Rose? Because Rose would have told me to shut up by now. So who are you?"

The figure of Rose stepped into the room. "We saved you from the false god. We scattered ourselves across time and space to lead us to you."

The Doctor froze. "What?"

"This form is familiar to you and to us, our means require you listen. The golden child, the Bad Wolf."

"You…you're the TARDIS?" He couldn't quite believe it but there it was. This thing in front of him looked like the Rose who had digested all of the Time Vortex. He trusted it, oddly enough.

"We see all that is, all that could be and we watch without interfering but now our silence is broken."

He ran a hand through his hair, spun a circle and goggled at the TARDIS in human form. "So, wait. No. Yes. No, you're the TARDIS come to see me. You've taken Rose's form because you need me to listen and because something is wrong…other than the obvious."

"Time does not work in reverse. Linear quality must be followed."

"Sometimes," he agreed. "You know about him upstairs then? Trapping me in here and you're against it? Great we agree, well we always have seen eye to eye haven't we?" he winked at her. "And might I say you're looking quite—"

The TARDIS held up a hand. "Loquaciousness has its turn."

"Is that the polite way of telling me to shut up?"

"Yes."

"Ah."

"There must be forethought into diverting the circumstances."

"A plan, yes, a plan. Great idea. It's always good to have a plan," he paused, "Uh, never bothered with them much to tell you the truth. Oh, I'm all for plans, personally, just find that they get in the way of actually achieving things. I had a great plan in 2390. Ooh, a fabulous plan with diagrams and everything."

The TARDIS rolled her eyes and her shape shimmered. When the light dimmed the Doctor was confronted with a less appealing shape.

"Cripes, Doc, you jaw so much I'm surprised your tongue doesn't fall out."

"Tegan?!" He gaped a moment and then eyed her suspiciously. "What's with the accent? I thought the TARDIS was all wordy and filled with seriousness."

"Sometimes," said Tegan/the TARDIS ruefully, "a firmer hand is needed to shut you up."

"Ah," the Doctor was chagrined. "Right." He eyed the curvaceous form of his former companion, the one woman who could cheerfully argue for hours and who had never been afraid of telling it to him straight.

"Where were we?"

"A plan." Tegan/the TARDIS reminded. "Have you given any thought to one?"

He nodded and then started to pace. "His control is breaking, you can tell that by the wall. It's splintering into tiny fragments which means his attention is wandering. What he's concentrating on is keeping Rose from asking awkward questions, good luck to him there because if I know Rose, and I know Rose, the one thing she was always good at was asking awkward questions—usually right in front of the wrong rulers which ended up us being chased through—"

The TARDIS cleared it's throat and the form of Tegan folded her arms superciliously. The Doctor back-peddled. "Right, yes, ah. He's conflicted so he's not paying attention. I can control some of this but I need him to give me more leeway. He had over a year to deal with this; I have to do this much faster." He eyed the wall and its web. "If he falls too much he might start taking it out on Rose. That won't work."

"How could you make him release you, Doc?" Tegan/the TARDIS asked.

"He'd let me out if he needed more brain power," he mused, still pacing. "More juice, although he seems to be flying by on minimal intelligence _and_ he's back-combing. I tried that, didn't work. Rose did say I was cute but she was talking to the cat, I think she thought it resembled a mullet."

"Hells teeth!" exploded Tegan/the TARDIS at his ramblings.

"Right, sorry. Where was I? Mullet, cats, back-combing, brain power. Right, yes. So how could he need more brain power? Uh, he goes on 'Who wants to be a millionaire?' Unlikely. He joins Mensa."

Tegan/the TARDIS frowned. "Didn't you found that?"

"Yep," the Doctor rocked on his heels. "Come on, think. He mind-melds; no other Time Lords. He uses telepathy. No. He gets possessed, too late!" he snorted, looked at Tegan/the TARDIS and then froze. "Possessed. Ooh, I like that." He started to spin as he worked it out in his head. "No. No. No. Yes. No. Yes, Brilliant!"

He punched the air in triumph and turned with shining eyes to the TARDIS. "I have a plan. A good plan. But I'll need some help from you."

Tegan/the TARDIS grinned widely. "Just name it, Doc."

He grimaced. "Stop calling me that."


	5. Chapter 5

The morning was well advanced when Rose finally made it into the control room, her head much clearer than it was when she'd finally gone to sleep the night before after hours of tossing and turning. She still wasn't happy about what the Doctor had done back in the Tower of London, nor his general evasiveness of the topic and she was through waiting for him to be ready to talk about it. If he wasn't going to give her answers then she was going to find someone who was.

"Right," the Doctor said with a wide grin. "So where to now? Refreshed and rested ready for a riot. Where do you want to go?"

Rose pulled on the sleeves of her shirt. "You know I did promise I'd talk to Jack."

His face fell and Rose tried to quell the sudden pang it gave her. It was no use falling into bad habits again. Before getting stuck on a different version of Earth she had started to become far too lenient of the Doctor's mercurial moods and odd behaviour. She knew that annoying Queens and taunting fate was foolish and yet she had let him get away with it. No longer.

Rose had seen some awful things and had survived on her own without the Doctor in Earth 2.0 and she was no longer such a push-over.

"Besides," she said leaning against the TARDIS console. "We really do need to let him we know haven't run off without him."

Again; was the unspoken word but it hung heavily in the air.

The Doctor licked his lower lip and stared moodily at the various instruments that littered the top of the control panel.

"You know Jack's a big boy, Rose. We can go places without him. Besides he has his team to keep him busy. He's probably shacked up with one of them now. My money's on Ianto…or Gwen."

Rose grinned. "Knowing Jack, it's probably both. Still want to see him though. If that's all right?"

Her questioning tone put him on guard and he plastered a smile to his face.

"Right, sure. No problems. It's not a problem. We'll go and see Jack. Just really wanted you to myself for a while but, hey your wish and all that." He stilled and gave her a solemn eye. "Just be careful what you wish for."

The seriousness in his voice gave her the shivers and she wrapped her arms around herself. "I just feel bad, ya know, for leaving him after he helped you save me. He wanted to chat and we crept off like naughty kids."

"Or lovers," he replied quietly.

Rose licked her lips. "And we're neither, right? Not kids and we haven't…you know."

He turned to face her, crossing his arms over his skinny chest. "You can't have it until you're old enough to say it, Rose."

She grinned. "Sex."

His eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

"Screwing," she stuck her tongue out and waggled her own eyebrows in mischief. "Bonking, doing 'it', making love, hide the sausage."

The Doctor gave a spurt of laughter. "You what?"

"Sliding into third or is it home run?" Rose edged towards him and he backed away, his face a mixture of disbelief and amusement. "Beast with two backs, kicking it, boinking, whores and vicars? F—"

The Doctor put a hand over her mouth. "Rose Tyler, what have you been getting up to in Pete's World?"

Rose giggled and licked his hand. He removed it quickly and wiped it on his jumper.

She merely looked at him with an enchanting smile and he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before cupping her cheek in his hand.

"I want you, Rose Tyler," he said with such aching honesty that Rose felt weak at the knees. He searched her face for something and his fingers tickled her skin. "Don't think I don't. But it's not time yet."

Rose didn't understand but she nodded.

The Doctor took a deep breath. "I've got you back but you—" don't trust me "—need some time to make sure that this is what you want and you aren't just wanting a memory." He swallowed. "The last thing I want between us, Rose, is regrets."

Rose softened and kissed his fingertips. "I am sure. But I'll wait if you want me to. I waited in Pete's World for years. A few more months won't kill me."

She turned and walked away, a sway in her walk.

No, thought the Doctor as he watched her figure, but it might just kill me.

To distract himself he grabbed hold of the temporal dial and twisted it. "Right, so here we go!"

He fumbled with the dimensional transducer, flicked over the matter-transmitter, twisted the molecular converter and entered the space-time coordinates.

He shot Rose a manic grin full of energy and life and reached for the materialisation circuit.

The TARDIS exploded.

**

The Doctor was catapulted backwards as the materialisation circuit erupted into sparks and flames shot into the air, singing the time rotor.

Rose fell to the floor as shock waves of heat blasted towards her and she instinctively covered her head.

"ROSE?" the Doctor yelled over the roaring sounds of the fire but she could hardly hear him.

The entire room began to shudder and shake like an earthquake and the roaring sounds started to mingle with a low resonance whine coming from the TARDIS mainframe. The pulsating column creaked ominously and started to glow a deep red, taking over the usually soothing green as the rest of the ship continued to buck and shake.

"What's happening?" Rose screamed but there was no answer.

She chanced a look over the burning console to see the Doctor passed out on the floor. The rampant quaking had knocked his head against the plastic seat and rendered him unconscious.

Rose clambered to her knees as the TARDIS trembled, like the machine was being shaken from outside. Rose made it as far as the console and grabbed for the emergency coolant that was hidden on the underside. She wrenched the top off and squirted the cooling gel liquid onto the controls to douse the fire.

The central column started to pulsate faster and louder, the light burning bright and the noise building like a siren and then, suddenly, it fell silent.

The TARDIS stopped dead with such a jolt that Rose was knocked off her feet again, banging her head against the railing.

The silence was so unexpected after the maelstrom of the past few minutes that it was almost deafening. Rose clutched her head and felt blood drip between her fingers.

She looked over the smoking console to where the Doctor lay still.

With effort she crawled on hands and knees across the floor to where he lay and she passed her hand over his mouth to check for breathing. She could feel puffs of air against her fingertips and she let out a huge sigh of relief at the fact that he was still alive.

Rose tapped his cheek lightly. "Doctor?" She shivered as she looked at the charred top of the console and the scent of smoke and ashes in the air.

What the hell just happened?

It was almost like the time when the TARDIS slid from one dimension into another only far, far more violent. Were they back in Pete's World?

She bit at her fingernails and smoothed her fingers against the Doctor's head.

"What have you done now?" she asked quietly.

The Doctor's neck arched back. "Ro-se," he breathed.

"Yes, I'm here. It's me." She soothed.

"Trapped. Help me," he hissed, eyes still closed.

"Okay, Shh," Rose ran her fingers through his hair. "I'm here, yeah?"

He opened his eyes and Rose startled to see them flash from brown to blue and back again.

"Rose?" he said in his northern accent.

"Hello." She smiled widely at him more in relief that he was okay.

He blinked once, twice and then sat up quickly. "What was that?"

Rose sat back on her haunches. "No idea. Felt like some sort of crash. Did we crash?"

He looked at her vaguely insulted. "I never crash."

"Oh right," a smile played around her lips, "I forgot."

He glanced over his shoulder as he got to his feet to see if she was joking and she didn't school her expression fast enough.

"Right comedian you ar—," he froze as he saw the blood trickled down her face. He was at her side in an instant, caressing her face and examining the bump.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice low.

"Little bit," she admitted with a hitch as his deep gaze caught hers.

He wiped the blood away with his thumb and held her to him, planting a kiss against the cut. "Let me see what's wrong with the TARDIS and then we'll check you out."

"I'm fine," Rose pulled away, her eyes immediately going to the console. "What went wrong?"

He shook his head and tentatively prodded the console. When nothing sparked at him he sniffed and ran his hands over the controls trying to gauge what had happened.

Nothing was immediately apparent and his frown deepened.

"It felt like it did when we first went into Pete's World," Rose hazarded. "We haven't gone back, have we?"

He shook his head. "No. I would have sensed the slip into another reality. This is something else."

He opened up his link to the TARDIS and was shocked to feel more than a slight hint of annoyance from the TARDIS. She wasn't hurt by the fire but she was incensed by his touch.

He withdrew and folded his arms staring at the ruined console in shock and hurt.

She'd done this deliberately?

"Doctor?"

He opened and closed his mouth, not sure how to explain this one to her. How could he tell her that the TARDIS had blown her own circuits to let him know of her displeasure? How could he tell Rose that the reason they were stuck wherever they were was because he wouldn't allow the TARDIS to have total reign of his mind anymore?

He breathed a sigh and flicked a switch on the monitor, checking their location. "According to this we're on Maurra Delta which, right now, should be peaceful. They've just celebrated their Pax Anniversary, no crime for a hundred years so it should be safe out there." He turned to face her. "Rose, I need to talk to the TARDIS."

Rose was taken aback. "Oh, I didn't know you could do that."

"I can," he said hesitantly. "But it means going into my own thoughts and I can't be disturbed or it could mean catastrophe. I need total quiet for at least an hour."

Rose smiled gently. "I can take a hint."

She headed for the door. "Totally peaceful out there, yeah?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

Rose hesitated and then made her way back to him, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a deep kiss. "Take care, okay?"

He pulled her back for another long kiss before watching her walk out of the TARDIS, closing the door firmly behind her.

He let the fond smile drift from his features and turned back to the console, his arms folded and face set in malevolence.

"Well, well, just you and me, then."


	6. Chapter 6

Rose stepped out of the TARDIS and closed the door behind her. The Doctor had told her that this place in this time was safe and she believed him… she just hoped that he remembered other things as well, like the fact that she needed oxygen to breathe.

She inhaled quickly and giggled at her own foolishness. Of course he would have ensured that she could breathe first.

The sounds of birds and crickets filled the air and the wind rushed through the tall willowy trees that surrounded her. All seemed beautiful and serenely peaceful but she was more wary. Experience had taught her that appearances were often deceiving and, even more often, dangerous.

She moved curiously yet carefully away from the TARDIS and had her first unobstructed view of her surroundings. The view was breathtaking and reminded Rose of jungles and rainforests she had seen on television back on Earth. The fantastic foliage was glimmered in an array of shades ranging from green and blue, aqua through jade, turquoise through emerald with greys and browns thrown in at random.

A slight mist covered the ground and there was a feeling of early morning dew freshening the air.

Rose breathed in the oxygen rich atmosphere and stretched her aching muscles. It was a welcome change after the nasty burnt odour that permeated the TARDIS at the moment. She had an hour to kill and the Doctor had said that there had recently been some kind of festival around here. Festivals meant celebration and celebration meant party, right?

Twenty minutes later Rose started to worry. She had been walking all this time and hadn't seen even the remotest hint of civilisation. No party, no celebration…no people.

In fact, had the Doctor not told her that this planet was inhabited she would have assumed that she was all alone here, alone with the trees.

As the sun dipped behind unseen clouds the overhead canopy turned grey and a chill stung the air, raising goose bumps on Rose's arm. Without the warmth of the sun the ambiance turned.

Suddenly the leaves and branches were less beautiful and more menacing. The bird song suddenly belonged, not to sweet winged creatures, but feral beasts' intent on feasting on unsuspecting flesh. Even the soft mist was more scary than soothing. Rose was just contemplating returning to the safety of the TARDIS and waiting outside for the Doctor when she stumbled into a clearing.

It was a usual forest glade probably made by a fallen tree or a combination of hard rock and tree roots, but that thing hanging from the tree was no natural occurrence.

Suspended from two branches on the far side of the glade were crystals, some maybe five inches, others three feet long, all suspended from a silver thread.

As the wind brushed against one, a sweet resonating chime echoed in the clearing. The motion rocked it into a smaller crystal and it, too, resounded in the still air. As perpetual motion made them all shudder they all rang loud and clear. The effect was oddly harmonic and reminded her of one of those settings on keyboards used in naff eighties bands.

In fact it was very soothing and Rose settled down on the ground underneath to listen to the tinkling, her eyelids growing dangerously heavy.

*

The Doctor leaned against the TARDIS console and grimaced at the slight sting in his palms from where he had fallen onto the grating floor.

He pulled back and tucked his arms around himself. "So," he began heartily. "What's all this then? Mutiny?"

There was silence from his usual link with the TARDIS and he hardened his heart.

"You know, it's not playing nice to suddenly explode in mid-air, makes a bloke feel unappreciated."

Ah, there was a slight buzz from that; the human equivalent of pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes.

He continued. "It's almost childish, little temper tantrum and refuse to come out and play."

The TARDIS rumbled and he hid a smirk. "Poor little TARDIS, denied entrance so she blows a fuse." He stared at the blackened control panel. "Literally."

A low resonance whine started low in the databanks and threaded its way through him like an ice cold shiver. The TARDIS was displeased.

He braced himself and glowered at the scolding. "Yes, well. I'm 900 years old, what's your excuse?"

The hum built in pitch and thrummed low and hard. He swallowed. "I've done nothing wrong."

A squeak echoed and he staggered forwards. "I deserve the right to live!" he spat angrily and closed his eyes against the thunderous reply to that.

"It wasn't my fault, I couldn't save everyone, but I could save myself, for the first time I—"

He was cut off by the high-pitched pulsation emitting from the TARDIS. It lasted minutes, hours, days and he was helpless against the onslaught of the TARDIS' remonstrations.

When the flood of recriminations had abated he straightened and took a deep breath. "Fine. Then it's him I'll talk to."

He knelt down by the TARDIS console, closed his eyes and prepared for battle.

*

Rose felt something heavy press against her chest and her eyes fluttered open, sleep edging away reluctantly. She looked down to see a leaf had fallen from a nearby tree and settled on her chest. She smiled and lazily brushed at it.

It was so peaceful here, so relaxing. How could she have ever thought that this place was menacing? That was just stupid, it was wonderful here.

Fantastically wonderful.

And those chimes were so beautiful, lyrical and oddly hypnotic.

Rose couldn't tear her eyes away from them as they swayed in the breeze, swinging and rocking back and forth.

So hypnotic.

Suddenly Rose was plunged into blackness. The feeling of peace fled and Rose panicked, lurching to her feet.

All around her was dark and cold, an absence of anything but blackness. Rose couldn't see anything, not an inch in front of her, not her own hands waving in front of her face. Nothing.

Her breath turned to faint mist in the frigid air and she was almost relived to see that brief hint of colour in an otherwise black world.

"Hello?" she called and ducked as the echo grew around her, battering her with the force of her own voice.

As the words died away she sighed. "Well, won't be doing that again."

_  
"Again, again, again," _The slight echo followed her and she bit her lip with a shudder.

The air was more than cold, it was intimidating and each breath filled Rose with unease. Her head started to feel light and fuzzy; like she'd been on the cheap drink Shareen used to bring round when they were broke.

In fact she felt drunk, light-headed and nauseous. Rose began to panic.

What had happened? Where was she and why was it so dark? There had to be some light somewhere, some way that she could see what was coming. With this overwhelming nothingness, anything could be hiding, just waiting to pounce on her.

Was there something there? A flicker? Had Rose just seen something move? Was she alone here or was something waiting just waiting to catch her off guard.

Oh, why did she feel so sick?

The pit of her stomach lurched and she cast out a hand for something to lean on. But there was nothing there.

She stumbled and dropped onto one knee, bashing it against cold, hard floor.

"Bugger," she whispered and rubbed at the sore knee. The sudden pain had managed to take her mind off the disquieting direction her thoughts had started to take and she took a deep breath.

"Right," she said aloud. "Enough of that. I stopped being frightened of the dark ages ago, so knock it off."

With that Rose climbed to her feet and dusted off her jeans.

"Okay, so let's think about this. What do I know?" The sound of her own voice was comforting to Rose in the darkness and she instantly felt more capable of sorting out her situation as she put the facts in order. "I left the TARDIS and went for a walk. That much is a fact. Then I was in that weird clearing and those chimes…must have put me to sleep." Rose sighed in annoyance. "Either I'm dreaming or the chimes knocked me out and someone has kidnapped me."

A small smile tripped over her lips. "So either I've been abducted by aliens or I'm asleep. Well done me."

There was a sudden sound of clapping and Rose jumped as the sound resounded around her.

"Bravo."

She spun on her heel and blinked as one small spot of bright white light revealed a man standing in front of her. He was dressed in white clothes, medieval clothes that Rose had seen only on TV and in history books- pantaloons and a ruff. His face was as pale as a ghost, only the deep red of his eyes and gums stood out.

He was eerie and Rose stepped back from the mania in his eyes.

"Who are you?" She demanded.

The man gave a lopsided smirk. "Well, either I'm a figment of your imagination or an alien kidnapper, isn't that what you've deduced? Clever girl."

Rose folded her arms unimpressed. "So which one are you then? Cuz, gotta say, that time Shareen brought the gone off White Diamond I had better dreams. Never looked at Ricky Martin again without thinking of apples, but still." Rose sniffed. "Not scary, mate."

"Well, no," the spectre grimaced. "That's because I'm all alone. Just me. But if there were, say more of me…"

Rose blinked as the man split into two, then four, then sixteen. Soon she was surrounded by white ghostly men with bad fashion sense.

"Is this scarier?" they chanted and Rose bit her lip and scoffed.

"You've obviously never seen Jackie Tyler first thing without make-up."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The tenth incarnation of the Doctor waited with bated breath as his less sane companion charged into his own mind.

He knew that at this moment, his counterpart would be storming down the corridor of his subconscious leading to the iron door behind which he waited. He managed to hold his temper in check only by the skin of his teeth and the knowledge that he was about to do this intruder a dangerous turn.

He'd watched in pained despair as his alter annoyance had touched Rose, held Rose and spoke about desire. The yearning that he had often felt to be near Rose was increased by the evidence that she wanted him too.

Ever since his regeneration he had waited, watching for some sign that Rose Tyler was ready and willing to accept what he had to offer.

Oh, he knew that she wanted him; Rose was notoriously easy to read sometimes. But he had wanted to make sure that it was him she wanted; this body. He wanted her to want the pin-striped, sappy-grinning, weak-wristed version who adored her. Not the obsessed big-eared version who held her to an impossible standard.

As she slid up to the man who had taken his body and professed to want all of him he'd felt his own hearts lurch.

_That should be me,_ he cried internally, _it's me she loves. I'm the one Rose loves!_

The idea that his place would be usurped was twisting his guts in knots and he wanted to hurt his other self more than he could remember wanting to hurt anyone in a long time.

But he had to bide his time.

The TARDIS had landed them on Deva Loka and soon his other self would go out onto the planet. The rest would be up to the occupants of the planet but, knowing what he knew about them, it wouldn't be long until his other self would come crawling for help.

The door to his chamber suddenly slammed open and the Doctor smiled cheerily.

"Oh hello, come to visit?" He rocked back on his heels. "I wasn't expecting visitors, you know or I would have tidied up." He gestured to the splintered wall. "Or done some DIY. Always wondered about that, if two of you do it, it isn't really Do It Yourself is it? Or would it be selves. DIYS. D. I wise?" He said doubtfully. "Doesn't sound right."

"I almost forgot how much you can talk!" the ninth incarnation said with a roll of his eyes. "Natter natter, you're like an old woman."

"You can talk!" the tenth incarnation shot back.

"Not nearly as well as you, blah, blah, blah, I got more sense out of Adam…or Turlough."

"That's right, be petty. You know I'm surprised you didn't carry a safety blanket around with you. You must be the wimpiest incarnation I've ever had. I bet you're wearing girl's pants."

The Ninth Doctor swept a hand and his future self slammed into the already cracked wall. His head snapped back and he crumpled to the floor.

The man standing took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. It would do him no good to beat his future self to death… no matter how appealing it sounded.

The Doctor slowly crawled to his feet. "Temper," he hissed, "forgot you had a bloody bad temper and a short fuse."

"It's getting shorter by the second." The northern voice was terse and filled with annoyance. "What I want to know is how you got the TARDIS on your side."

The Doctor smiled. "Jealous?"

His counterpart put his hands in his pockets and smirked. "Oh yeah. Very jealous. Fuming in fact. I may have to go to Rose to be consoled."

The triumphant expression on the tenth Doctor's face dropped faster than a stone in a pool.

The Doctor sniffed. "Yeah, Rose is good at that, consoling. Always has been. Pity you never bothered with it. But I'm sure I can catch up." He wandered over to the wall and examined the cracks and splinters. "What's this?"

The prisoner started. So his younger self didn't know what he had done?

"Oh that was me," he lied, "I was trying to get out. Not doing too badly, am I?"

He was stared at with pity. "By this time I was already out."

"Oh really?" the Doctor straightened his suit jacket. "I thought that by now you were still ghostly in form trying to become corporeal after being blasted apart by, well it'd be me, wouldn't it?" The Doctor grinned maliciously. "You know, you were replaced, swopped, traded up, upgraded, improved, disposed of, dispersed… deleted."

The Doctor in leather spread open his arms. "I'm still here."

"You shouldn't be."

--

The ghostly man inclined his head at Rose and the rest of his selves melted into nothingness leaving the two of them alone again. "You are an odd one."

Rose shrugged. "Also not news."

"Most in your position would be gibbering or at least unnerved by now," he grinned nastily. "Most in your position _have_ been nervous wrecks by now. Fumbling, crying, squealing remnants of themselves."

Rose rolled her eyes. "You know I've just about had enough of you, mate."

"Is that so?" her tormentor suddenly crouched down, kneeling on the ground. "Try this then."

He vanished and the darkness quickly ebbed into the space where he had been. Rose was alone again in the nothingness. Pushing back the instinctive panic Rose took a breath.

"There's always a way out and wandering off is usually a good idea." She smiled at the thought of what the Doctor would say if he could hear that. But it was true. Unlike Alice in Wonderland, Rose knew that sometimes staying put was not the best way to go about things. True, it was easier for people to find you, but it was also easier for your enemies to discover you, too.

She had to move and try to find some way out of here. She swallowed and from sheer effort of will put one foot forward. She was not going to be intimidated by this place; she had been in far worse.

Rose started to walk slowly, checking with her toes to make sure that she wasn't going to walk straight into some sort of hole.

There was nothing to break up the monotony of black and pretty soon Rose had lost all track of time and space.

She just kept walking.

--

The two Doctors stared in undisguised hatred at each other.

It was odd in a kind of masochistic way to have this intense dislike for yourself that only pain and blood would ease.

The Doctor had met himself before in more than one incarnation and there had always been arguments and annoyance from both sides. It was hard to be confronted with a part of yourself, especially if it was a part that you didn't particular like or believe that you had.

On the odd occasions that he had met himself he had balked against his own dominant traits but had, eventually, come to understand that in any regeneration he was brilliant and he should get along with himself purely for the fact that he could appreciate his own genius better than anyone.

Of course, none of his other regenerations had been psychotic.

Now the tenaciously devoted psychopath sneered at the mouthy exuberant pretty boy and tried to forget that they were both part of the whole.

"I will get out," the tenth incarnation maintained. "You know I will. What will Rose think of you once I do, hmm? Have you thought about that? Right now she has good memories of you. She remembers that you saved her dad and that you held her hand and made her run. She has Dickens and the year Five Billion and all that, good times. But what will she remember when I break free and tell her all that you've done? What will she remember about you then?"

The ninth incarnation looked away, thinking about that.

The prisoner pressed his luck. "If you let me go now I won't say a word, we can blame it on going through the rift or something. I'm giving you a chance here. One chance. Let me go now and Rose will keep those memories of you."

The blue eyes of the ninth Doctor stared at him quietly as the emotions tumbled behind those eyes too fast for the Doctor to understand what he was thinking. He wasn't sure if he was getting through or being careful observed for dissection.

"No second chances," the ninth Doctor said softly and the prisoner swallowed hard.

"No."

There was a moments silence while the younger Doctor walked over to the cracked wall and traced one of the spidery tendrils with his fingers.

"Do you have any idea what it's like to be trapped inside someone's mind for years? To watch them make mistakes and be powerless to stop it? Do you know what it's like to feel the years speed up the aging process and experience every single cell dying and being flooded with time? Each pore aches." He lifted up his arm and examined his fingertips. "It's like the most painful pins and needles and then it gets worse. Much worse. But beyond the pain you know that there's something you have to do, something you have to concentrate on. So you claw your way through the agony. You bypass it all because it doesn't matter. Only one thing matters. The light tries to drag you away but you don't let it because you promised to take care of her and you have to see that she's all right. It takes a while, days maybe weeks before you open your eyes and find you're trapped inside someone who has no idea what he's doing." His head snapped round to fix the tenth Doctor with a steely stare. "To watch him as he pushes her away and knocks her confidence and to know that you can't do anything. We've been vulnerable before. We've been locked up and helpless and unable to do anything. But this was worse." He stalked forwards and the Doctor watched with trepidation. "Truly powerless."

The scent of his leather jacket edged into the tenth Doctor's awareness as the irate man intruded into his space.

"Never again." He whispered. "I'm in this to win it."

He turned on his heel and marched to the iron door. "The TARDIS may be pissed at me, fine. I can stay around here for a while. She'll get bored soon enough. It'd be fun to spend some time on Maurra Delta, we can take in the local colour."

The tenth Doctor frowned. "Where?"

"Maurra Delta. Just after the Pax. Rose should be already there enjoying the festivities."

He was only slightly troubled when the pin-striped man paled.

"What?"

--

Rose felt like Sarah in the Labyrinth.

"Where's David Bowie in tight trousers when you need him?" she mused as she carried on through the darkness. Her eyes had grown accustomed to the lack of light and she could pick out shapes in the distance. Nothing concrete yet but it gave her something to aim for…if only it didn't keep moving further away from her whenever she got close.

As it was Rose felt like she had walking for miles and miles and was seriously rethinking her choice of holiday location.

"We're on Maurra Delta, Rose," she mocked as she carried on walking, "Time of the Pax anniversary. Perfectly safe. Sure. Why do I trust him? That flaming box is never reliable. Isn't that right, Doctor?" She grinned at her own absurdity.

The grin dropped as she heard something call out her name.

"Rose?!"

"Doctor!" Rose spun around but she couldn't see him. "Doctor are you there?"

"Rose?" the sound was pained and her unease kicked back up to full panic scale.

"Doctor where are you, are you okay? Doctor?"

"Help me, Rose. I—I'm trapped."

--

The pin-striped man grew even paler and reached over to grab his tormentor's arm. "Where's Rose?"

He was shrugged off by the other man. "Rose went for a walk. The TARDIS data banks showed this to be Maurra Delta. It's safe. I'm not like you, pretty boy. I don't let Rose wander off where she could get hurt."

"Oh you're wrong, you are so wrong." The Doctor raked a hand through his hair. "This isn't right."

The Doctor in leather smirked. "Remember your history. The Maurrians declared peace and stick to it rigidly. We brought Nyssa here after that business with her father. Remember, it was all peace all the time," he paused, "a bit boring actually. Rose is fine."

"Rose would be fine," the tenth Doctor said through gritted teeth, "if this were Maurra Delta. It's not."

The Doctor scowled. "You, stuck in here, how do you know?"

"Because this isn't where I told her to land."

It took a moment; a very very brief moment for the synapses to connect and the weathered face of the Doctor hardened, all animation fled and a mask of pure, unadulterated fury leeched across the large features.

Without warning his hands grabbed the lapels of that hated pin-striped suit and he hauled his older self to him with a growl of animalistic ferocity.

"Where. Are. We?" he spat.

The Doctor didn't even struggle to get free. "Deva Loka."

He was thrown aside and dropped to the floor like so much rubbish and the iron door slammed shut before he even registered landing.

But he would never forget the fear he felt in those nano-seconds when realisation flashed in his adversary's eyes.

He knew, beyond a doubt that he would suffer for this and only hoped Rose wouldn't pay the price.

--

The Doctor sprang out of his own mind and reached reality on his feet, racing for the TARDIS door. The TARDIS knew that something wasn't right and flung the outer doors open to allow him to escape into the jungle outside. He wouldn't have stopped even if he'd have had to break them down. So focused was he, he hadn't even seen them.

Rose was in danger and it was all his fault.

He hadn't known that the TARDIS had deliberately hidden their location from him, but he should have.

As soon as his prisoner had told him where they were, he knew what the plan had been between the TARDIS and his older self. It was a great plan but foolhardy and a measure of how desperate his other self was.

At any other time he would be delighting in having reduced someone to these kinds of extremes, but his overriding concern for Rose left little time to gloat.

He slammed through the forest, his feet tramping over leaves and branches and possibly small animals. He didn't know and he didn't care. The trees parted in front of him like magic, all loathe to get in the way of the harried Time Lord. The sound of the forest hemmed him in but he broke through, the sounds of his pounding feet only eclipsed by the pounding of his hearts.

He had to get through, he had to find Rose. It couldn't be too late.

Not again.

--

Rose searched for the Doctor, listening to his voice as he called her. She started to run towards the greyness that she could see at the edge of her vision certain that was where he was. He called out to her, his voice pained and full of anguish and every word broke her heart.

"I'm coming," she choked, a sob lodged in her throat. "I'm coming, don't worry Doctor. I'll get you out."

Suddenly the greyness become dark brown and switched from a transient haze to solid steel bars.

She could see a figure on the other side of the bars, huddled on the floor.

"Doctor?" she hurtled towards the cage at full pelt and almost slammed against the bars in her haste.

She could see the curled form of the Doctor in the bottom of the cage. His leather jacket all but hiding his face as he writhed in agony.

"Doctor?" she whispered, reaching through the bars for him.

"Rose?" he whimpered and seemed to seize, his body looking like it was wracked with pain.

"What is it, what's wrong?"

"It hurts!" he spat and his head snapped back.

Tears streamed down Rose's face as she stretched her arm through the bars to reach him. "What? What hurts? Tell me, what can I do?"

"Get me out," he hissed and writhed again.

"How?" she cried looking around. There was nothing anywhere but the Doctor in a cage. No locks, no padlocks, nothing but solid steel bars and blackness. "I don't even know where we are, how am I supposed to get you out?"

"We're in a fixed mind field," he said in between groans of pain. "An altered reality. Someone's mind. I'm trying to break us out but his mind is strong. His mind is attacking me—" he broke off and groaned again.

"The weird guy," Rose realised, "talks a lot. He abducted us. I was sleeping and then… how did he get you?"

"I came out looking for you. You were asleep by some chimes."

Rose nodded and stretched further, reaching out, trying to touch the Doctor but he was too far away. She felt wretched. If she had stayed nearer to the TARDIS he wouldn't be going through this pain. It was her fault. It was always her fault. When would she listen and stay put?

"I can break free," the Doctor managed with gritted teeth, shaking her out of her reverie. "But I need help."

"What can I do?"

He crawled towards her. "I need you to let me in, to accept me, Rose."

"I do."

He shook his head and then his whole body shook as he was attacked again. "Inside your head, if I can use your mind I can strengthen mine. I can bind us and we're stronger than him. We're stronger together, Rose."

Rose hesitated. "You want to go inside my mind, like you did with Madam De Pompadour?"

He slumped to the floor and his body trembled. "Rose please, trust me."

"I do. I do, all right." Rose sank to her knees. "Can you touch my head?"

"Don't need to, I only need your hand. Reach to me, Rose."

"Okay."

At Rose acquiescence he breathed out; a relieved breath. "You agree?"

"Yeah, yeah. Join with me or whatever."

His hand shot out and grabbed hers and his head snapped up for the first time showing her a face that definitely didn't belong to her Doctor.

With dawning horror Rose looked from the snake tattoo on his arm to his red eyes and snarled mouth.

It twisted into a mocking smile. "I thought you'd never ask."

--

The Doctor almost tripped over his feet as the clearing came into sight. He put on a burst of speed that would have put Linford Christie to shame. He sped into the clearing and his eyes automatically fell onto the one thing that didn't belong there.

Rose's body.

He was by her side, lifting her head and tapping her cheek.

"Rose, Rose? Please wake up. Rose?" He shook her frantically and his pulse trebled at her unresponsiveness.

"Rose? Come on my stupid little ape. Wake up, wake up , wake up, don't let it get you, please Rose. Wake UP!" he screamed into her face desperation adding power to his words.

With a cough and a splutter, like a drowning man reviving, Rose rolled over his arm and hacked away, pressing at her chest.

He stroked the back of her head in pure relief. She was alive, she was okay.

"Silly little human," he soothed. "You scared me, Rose. I thought you were in trouble then. Real trouble."

Rose stilled and he paused in his ministrations. "Rose?"

"I think…it's you who is in trouble, Doctor."

His hearts thumped away turning his blood to ice as she rolled back over and pinned him with red rimmed eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The Doctor thrust Rose away from him and his gaze caught on her arm. The lovely bare soft pink skin from this morning was marred by a hideous snake tattoo; one he had seen before.

"The Mara," he spat.

"I knew we'd meet again," smirked the Mara with Rose's face, the sneer jolting in its unnaturalness. "This side of madness or the other."

The Doctor shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and tried to resist the urge to grab at the body of his best friend and…what? He wanted to hold her and make everything okay again. But he also wanted to take hold of the thing possessing her and wring every last breath out of it.

His hands weren't sure whether to reach for her hands or her throat and they shook with the effort of holding back.

"Get out of her," he demanded and was rewarded by the Rose throwing her back and laughing.

It wasn't the usual full-bellied delight that Rose typically released in melodic abandon. This laugh didn't coax his own lips into a smile. No, this laugh was grating, harsh and mocking and curled into his stomach, twisting it into knots.

This laughing creature before him wasn't Rose. It wasn't _his_ Rose, his sweet angel who made every day worth waking up and greeting the sun.

This was wrong.

"Oh, but I'm having so. Much. Fun." The thick voice of the Mara slid over him like syrup and the creature that wasn't Rose grinned evilly. "This body has so much potential."

She ran her hands over her own shoulders down over her breast and circled her own hips. "Lush, isn't it?"

He swallowed. "What do you want?"

The Mara reached out her hand and touched the chimes that hung from the tree branch next to her. The motion made the harmonics ring and the tinkling sound set his teeth on edge.

"What do you want?" he repeated through gritted teeth.

"What any being wants," the Mara mocked. "Life. Existence beyond the mental plane and the dark places of the mind, where I was trapped for so long." Her head snapped around to his. "Where you trapped me."

The Doctor nodded. "I did. And I will again."

"How?" the Mara scoffed. "Mirror's and jesters? Men with no voices? I'll not fall for such tricks again. Doctor."

"How did you know it was me?" he asked, his brain trying to come up with another way to destroy this creature. "Last time we met I looked different."

And he had. The last time he had tangled with the Mara he was encumbered by a small boy, a tempestuous Australian and a stick of celery strapped to his lapel. The Mara had possessed Tegan and then slid into one of the natives and was eventually vanquished with the liberal use of mirrors; evil not being able to face itself, it scuttled back to wherever it had come from in the first place.

Except there was that time on Manussa as well.

It had re-possessed Tegan, if it had ever let go of her in the first place, and he'd had to use a focussing crystal and seek out the stillness within.

A spot of peace within himself.

Dawning awareness crept over him.

That sneaky, weasely, whey-faced, pinstriped, pansy-assed, nancy, skinny streak of piss!

That had been his plan all along. With the TARDIS refusing to dematerialise, his tenth self knew that he'd eventually go stir crazy and venture onto the planet. He'd hoped to lure the Doctor and Rose out here and have the Mara attack the Doctor. He'd have known the Mara held a grudge against the Doctor; he did destroy it not once, but twice, and the Mara would be only too happy to have a second chance to ensnare the object of its downfall. It would delve into his mind, forcing him to lower his internal shields to allow the Mara to be ousted and, at the same time, allow his older, far more annoying self to leave the confines he found himself in.

His tenth self hadn't banked on the TARDIS not telling them where she had landed and him allowing Rose out unsupervised and alone.

He hadn't planned on Rose being the one possessed by the Mara.

He hadn't planned bloody well at all!

The Doctor growled and wished he had time to venture into himself and kick the hell out of his alter ego but he hadn't time for such luxuries right now.

Rose was in danger and he was the only one who could help her. But how?

"She knows you," purred the Mara dragging him away from fantasies of mutilation and revenge back to the present.

"What?" He suddenly remembered that he had asked it how it had known him. He frowned. "Rose, of course she knows me but she didn't know me then."

"You change your face but not your hearts. This one loves a man with two faces but one soul. A man who was and then was not, but is and who crawls out of the pit and through dimensions to save her. She reminds me of another who held her own life as cheap compared to his. She reminds me of flesh that trusted. You always bring me the juiciest morsels to devour, _Doctor_."

His hands tightened into fists and he stalked over to the Mara until he stood toe to toe with it.

It stared up at him through Rose's eyes.

"I've defeated you before," he growled, "and I will again. Nobody wins against me. Nobody. I'm the coming storm; I'm the creature under the bed that the monsters fear; I'm the raging fire and the heart of the tornado. You don't want to mess with me because I will. Take. You. To. Pieces."

The Mara cringed away from the pure unadulterated hatred that seared through those eyes. Eyes that burned and trekked fingers of fear over its essence. But it recovered quickly.

It was old, older than this trifling little Time Lord. It had the universe as its playground and no matter the past it was here to stay.

The Mara stepped back and took a deep breath. "Your words mean nothing."

"My track record speaks for itself," the Doctor spat, his arms suddenly folding as he regarded the creature. He had scared it and that went miles towards making him feel better.

"But the Kinda fled this planet many moons ago taking their knowledge with them. This planet is uninhabited. Save for me. The last remaining Mara in this section of the galaxy. I will not easily be uprooted, Doctor."

He smirked. "We'll see."

--

For the lack of anything better to do he followed the Mara, keeping well away from the reach of the snake tattoo and tried to come up with ways of disposing of the Mara without harming Rose. There had to be some way of separating the two of them and forcing the Mara back into the dark places. There had to be some way of taking it away from the one he loved and allowing her to go free.

But his mind was blank.

He watched as the creature that inhabited Rose wandered through the lush forest letting its fingers trail over the leaves and inhaled the fresh air. Every now and again it would shoot him a sultry look over its shoulder, almost daring him to do something, do anything that could hurt Rose.

The rub was that every plan he concocted would end up hurting her either mentally or physically and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

And the Mara knew that. It knew that staying inside this girl was the best way for it to continue its existence. The girl was strong and was fighting back with everything that she had and it was a struggle just to keep the Doctor from being aware of how weak it truly was.

For millennia it had been trapped in the dark spaces having to watch as beings whose lives were so fleeting took advantage of being able to touch, to taste, to feel and knowing that it was only a matter of time before they turned to the dust.

Once the Mara had commanded armies with many voices; it had taken the Sumaran Empire across the universe conquering all that lay in its path. It held court in some of the finest palaces and had galaxies at its disposal.

It had been a real threat, a challenge worthy of warriors and a mighty ruler incomparable to all before it and now it was reduced to possessing a small child so that it could breathe.

The sheer audacity of lesser beings and their incomprehensible ability to depose the Mara stuck like a claw and it wanted revenge. It wanted revenge so badly it could taste it even in the oxygen rich air that permeated this pathetic rock.

It wanted to devour, to conquer, to rise up and tear this world apart. It wanted to see its enemies as they lay at its feet. It wanted to taste their fear, their desperation and their defeat. It wanted to feel the flesh of adversaries as they were torn asunder.

It wanted the universe to quake and bend at the knee to welcome its true master.

But it couldn't.

These child-like hands were too small to command that power. This human brain was too tiny to cope with such ambition and drive and this body was infinitesimal in comparison to the hordes that could be led.

It could do nothing with this child. Nothing.

But a Time Lord. Now that was a true prize.

A body that could command time and bend it to their pleasure. A mind that dealt in eight dimensions and who could calculate and break the Skasis Paradigm by breakfast.

Regenerations at its fingertips and even better, the body of its destroyer under it's compete control.

How delicious a victory is vengeance realised.

But not yet.

Being trapped in a state of non-being for so long had weakened it. Oh, it still held power and could crack the mind, knowing the weaknesses of its enemies and being able to play them like a child would a toy. But without a physical body it had dwindled, unable to harness the energy that it once could. A shadow of itself.

The Mara smiled at that. A shadow of darkness; how…poetic.

So it had to play on weaknesses instead of taking by force and what else was the Doctor's weakness but this child who…was singing rather loudly in the back of its skull. The Mara shook its head and tried to dislodge the echo, but it was no good. The child had decided to focus her energy on annoying it. Rather pointless but no less irritating.

"What's wrong?" the Doctor asked with a little concern noticing how the Mara had tilted her head to the side and was shaking it like a dog trying to get rid of fleas.

"The child is singing."

The Doctor blinked. "What?"

The Mara tapped the side of its borrowed cranium. "The small child is singing inside my head."

"Singing what?"

The Mara looked at him with some frustration. "I'm used to pleas for mercy, screams of the scared and abandoned…I do not…"

"What song?" the Doctor's lips curved and he leaned against the nearest tree with his legs crossed over each other; a very casual pose for someone whose mind was working so hard at trying to find a way to destroy the Mara.

"She is singing "This is the song that never ends." I feel she means it."

The Doctor grinned; evidently Rose graduated from the Doctor school of annoyance. "And how does that go?"

The Mara scowled. "Pitiful life forms and your pathetic attempts to defy me. Well, we shall see."

The Mara closed her eyes and a wicked grin crossed her face.

The Doctor lurched away from the tree. "What are you doing?"

"Teaching the child a lesson in who is dust. I will not be felled by insolence. I shall take her into myself. We shall become one and then we shall see who never ends."

"No!" the Doctor screamed but it was too late.

The body of Rose slumped to the ground and the Doctor only managed to catch her before she hit her head on the hard earth.

He lowered her body to the grass covered forest floor and stroked her forehead.

"Rose?" he whispered.

Her eyes flew open. Scared eyes, eyes that searched for him.

"Doctor? Doctor please help me!"

He grabbed her shoulders. "You've got to fight it, Rose. Fight the Mara."

"It's strong. I'm trying!" Rose cried and threw her head back in pain.

She slammed her eyes shut and bit down so hard on her lip that it started to bleed.

The Doctor felt helpless and he held onto her and rocked backwards and forwards trying to soothe the girl who held his hearts in her hands.

The Mara had taken on the form of Jackie Tyler in Rose's mind and stood toe to toe with her, a smirk colouring Jackie's usually cheerful features.

"Aw sweetheart," it said in Jackie's voice. "You shouldn't fight this, you know. Just give in."

Rose glared hard at the creature that wore her mother's face and shook her head. "I don't think so. You don't know Jackie. You've got her face from my memories but I know my mum."

"Like you knew the Doctor?" the Mara grinned and altered form to one that Rose knew almost as well as her own. The Doctor's hair stuck up in all directions and his brown pin-striped suit was immaculate.

"Help me, Rose!" the Mara said with his voice and the pain in it was enough to turn Rose's stomach even though she knew it wasn't him.

It wasn't him, it had never been him. Rose took a deep breath and steeled herself against the attack that the Mara was going to try.

She sniffed and flicked her gaze over the suit. "He doesn't wear that one so much any more." She folded her arms across her chest. "And I'm not falling for it again. So you can pack it in before I smack you."

The Mara seemed half amused and half insulted and inched closer to Rose. "I was devouring planets and civilisations before yours even crawled out of the primordial slime."

"It would explain the hips," Rose said with a faux sympathetic smile. "Honestly all that ozone's gotta have calories, yeah?"

The Mara hissed and the face of the Doctor contorted into fury. "Foolish child, you can't even begin to imagine my power, I have—"

"One thing," Rose interrupted, "that I found in my travels with the Doctor is that those with the power don't need to brag about it and those without never shut up."

She eyed the form across from her disparagingly. "No need to say which you are, is there? Yap yap yap."

With an inarticulate cry of rage the Mara slapped Rose hard across the face.

The explosion of pain in her cheek knocked Rose to the floor and she brought the back of her hand to her stinging lip and noted the spots of red flecked on her skin.

"Temper," Rose said with a dark edge.

The Mara sneered. "These years trapped in the dark places have softened my skin. Time was I never would have argued with my food. That is all you are and soon you will be no more."

Rose swallowed as the Mara reached out and grabbed her, hauling her back to her feet and bring their faces in close. "This ends with your surrender."

Tendrils of pulsating energy ripped their way through the suit the Mara wore and wrapped themselves around Rose's upper body. The Mara dropped all pretence of being human and the flesh on the face she wore peeled away with a sickening slurp.

Rose couldn't help the scream of horror that was ripped from her lips as the serpentine eyes were revealed and the skin slipped from the elongated body to slap in wet sticky waves around Rose's own body.

She was pinned in place like a bug on a slide and had a close up view as the raw, new skin shined with slick redness and the Mara shed the rest of its fake persona.

Thin red rims grew on top of the head in a ridge, gaining serrated edges and a green tinge before elongating with a crack that went right down to the bones.

Rose had a front row seat as the creature that once was the Doctor suddenly became a snake with eyes that burned with hate and breath that could peel paint.

She kicked and struggled but those tendrils held her fast and tightened with delight at her gasps of pain.

The slick tentacles reached up to Rose's forehead and with a leer the snake pushed in to Rose's subconscious. Rose had time for one scream of pure agony as her brain was violated before it overwhelmed her and she passed out.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The Doctor had watched Rose for hours, unable to do anything as she thrashed back and forth, alternating between screaming and shivering. He held her, stroked her head and soothed her as much as he could but as the day wore on and the shadows from the trees covered the glade floor he was fast running out of ideas.

He had tried to enter into her thoughts only to be pushed out with such force and such a howl from Rose that he didn't want to try brute force again lest he should do some permanent damage to her.

It was enough that she was trying to fight off the Mara; she didn't need him trying to break his way into her head as well. That much invasion was tantamount to rape and he wouldn't do it unless there was no other recourse.

But it was looking more and more inevitable as the hours dragged on and there was no sign of change from Rose.

He had done everything he could to try to make her feel better, laid her in his leather jacket and built a fire to keep away anything else that might be as scary as he was feeling.

But no matter what he did to distract himself there was no ignoring the form that twisted and turned with pained cries.

He was just reconsidering his decision not to take the Mara into the TARDIS when Rose gave a choked splutter and went silent.

The Doctor reached her side and peered down into her pale face, both hearts pounding away at the way she didn't move, so silent and so still.

"Rose?" he called softly. "Rose, say something."

"Doctor?" She said weakly and he sagged in relief.

"Rose!" he stroked her forehead. "Open your eyes, c'mon, let me see."

In a flash Rose reared up, knocked him back and straddled his body.

He looked up at her in shock and dawning horror as red eyes stared back in mocking laughter.

"Oops," teased the Mara. "Did you think it was that easy to get rid of me?"

"Where's Rose?" the Doctor demanded and tried to knock her off him. The Mara had gained extra strength from somewhere and it was like trying to move a stone.

"She's fighting," the Mara licked her lips in a very seductive and Rose-like move, "but she's losing and she knows it."

The Doctor swallowed hard in anger at the potential consequence of those words. Rose was losing. Rose was going to be taken over by this bitch. Rose was going to be lost unless he could do something about it.

"Why don't you let her go?" He suggested. "I'll let you go, let you live; just let Rose go."

The Mara threw back her head and laughed and Rose's blonde hair cascaded down its back in a yellow waterfall. "You'll _let_ me live? Oh dear, dear, Doctor. I don't _think_ so."

The taunting was evident in every syllable that slipped from her lips and the Doctor bucked, trying to move her away, trying to get this parody of Rose away from him.

The Mara stilled and stared down at him with curiosity.

"How…primeval. This skin sack reacts to yours. Heightened respiration, perspiration and nervous system." The Mara seemed genuinely interested. "I think this child wants to procreate with you." The Mara wriggled Rose's hips and they dug into the jeans of the Doctor.

He froze as certain parts of his anatomy refused to believe it wasn't Rose above him.

"Don't," he commanded in a voice as hard as steel.

The Mara ignored him and writhed, luxuriating in the sensations that ran through its borrowed body, tilting its head back to have Rose's face bathed in the last of the setting sun.

The Doctor tried to push her away, to knock her off his rapidly responding self but she was immovable and seemed to find his attempts hilarious.

Pinning his hands beneath her knees the Mara scraped Rose's nails down his chest and ticked the edge of his green jumper. "This is all so fascinating," she said. "Tactility is as base as can be and yet..."

She regarded him steadily and before he knew what she was about to do, he had a mouth full of Rose.

Since his rejuvenation he had kissed Rose many times, he loved to kiss Rose. It was always so soft and tempting with just an edge of hardness that made him want to devour her completely.

But this was something different. This wasn't Rose no matter how soft she felt against him or how her body melted into his.

It wasn't Rose; so why was he responding to her kiss?

He wrenched his mouth away and turned his head. "Stop it!"

"Why?" the Mara asked. "You are enjoying yourself and the sensation is not…unpleasant."

"You're not Rose!" he growled.

"Like it matters!" the Mara laughed and grabbed his head, fusing their lips together again.

The Mara tasted of dust and death and ages past. She held the flavours of a thousand conquered worlds and the devastation of empires. She was a fine wine, aged and fermented until the poison seeped through into his veins.

He choked, he gagged, he drowned and suddenly it came to him.

He pulled his mouth away, gasping, breathless.

"Hands!" he gasped, his eyes on fire. "Let me touch you."

The Mara had been lost in the new sensations and her mind was so addled by this new feeling that she capitulated immediately. His hands were freed and he grabbed Rose's hair, yanking her body down to his and rolling her underneath him.

He nestled between her legs and felt them scissor around his lower body. He pressed himself down onto her and felt Rose's breath hitch in her chest as they made contact. He grinned wolfishly and bit on her bottom lip delighting in the groan that rushed from her parted lips.

Then slowly, so very slowly he touched her forehead and pushed himself into her head.

He fell into blackness and stumbled to his knees. There was a moment of dizziness and disorientation as the world settled around him.

When he looked up he could see the estate where Rose used to live. The Powell estate with its badly spelt graffiti and smell of frying onions. He looked up to where Rose's flat used to be and wasn't surprised to see her standing on the balcony staring out over the street. He followed her gaze to where the TARDIS sat on the street corner, looking out of place and alone in this grey world.

As the Doctor started up the stairs he was trying to come up with some plan of getting them both out of this. He knew that it wouldn't be too long before the Mara realised what had happened and she wouldn't be happy at all. In fact she might attack his own mind while he was in Rose's.

It was kind of ironic actually. His other self was trapped in his mind while he took over his body even though he was trapped in Rose's mind who was trapped inside the Mara's mind in Rose's body.

This was getting ridiculous.

He wrinkled his nose as he rapped on Rose's door.

"Rose?" he called out as he pushed open the door to her flat and walked through. He knew he'd find her out on the balcony but didn't really want to run into Rose's mental representation of her mother.

There was only so much he could handle at any time and this was pushing it.

He walked through her room and stood behind her. "Rose?"

"You're not really here." Rose sounded like she'd given up and he folded his arms across his chest, glad that he had his own body back complete with leather jacket. He felt much more comfortable in his own skin rather than wear that monkey suit of a pretty boy.

"Course I am, daft ape. Where am I then?"

"Away. I dunno. You just didn't come back."

"When?"

"On the street. I said no and you left, didn't come back. No second chances."

The Doctor sniffed and stuck his hands into his pockets. "An' I told you that I gave you four chances, Rose. You're different."

"So'are you," she said quietly, "so different. All darker and scarier than ever. I want to come back to you, I really do. But I'm losing."

He swallowed. "Losing what?"

"See?" Rose pointed down and suddenly they were both standing in a woodland clearing watching Rose struggle with the snake-like form of the Mara.

As they watched, the Mara grabbed Rose in its tail and threw her against a tree. Her head struck the tree with a sickening cracked and she slid bonelessly to the floor, coughing up blood onto her already stained shirt.

The Doctor started forward only to run bodily into an obstruction and he glanced up to see that the Mara had cut off all help by encasing them both in a large clear bubble.

The Doctor slammed his hands against the clear glass bubble but it didn't even resonate. It was a solid barrier and he could see Rose being beaten but couldn't do anything.

He turned back to the one who had been on the balcony. "What is this?"

"When it gets too much," Rose said, "I go back to Mum's. She's not there and it feels like I'm waiting for you, but you never come out of the TARDIS."

She turned to him with sad eyes. "You never come for me."

Her defeated tone made up his mind and he grabbed her arms tightly. "Rose Tyler, I'll always come for you."

He closed his eyes and found himself in front of the prison in his own mind.

He slammed open the portal to his captured self and snarled like an animal

"Right," he said without preamble. "This is all your fault. You told the TARDIS to bring us here and now the Mara has Rose."

The Doctor in pin-stripes looked horrified. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

"And that makes it all right does it?" he shook his head. "See, I knew that you were trouble, mate, saw it the first time we looked into a mirror. You with your vanity and impulsiveness. You didn't think, did'ja? And now Rose is suffering for your mistakes…again!"

The pin-striped Doctor stood taller. "One regeneration makes up for the lack in another, you know that. If I'm impulsive it's only because you did nothing. Ever. Rose was in front of you for a year, more than a year and you just stood by. My nature is a direct consequence of yours!"

In his very eloquent way the Doctor retorted. "Bollocks!"

The captive raked his hands through his hair. "Well, we have to find some way of getting the Mara out of Rose before she is taken over completely." He gave a small smirk. "Any ideas?"

The Doctor surged forwards and grabbed him in a choke hold, his eyes alight with fury. "The second you said where we were; I knew. You think this is some kind of game? I know your plan, you idiot. I _was_ you! For months I was the same skinny streak of piss you were and I hated it. But I know what you're capable of, you pathetic little man. You want me to go inside Rose's head with you and both of us vanquish the Mara then you'll take over or let her know that I'm not you. It won't work."

He dropped the man to the floor and kicked out, catching the slimmer man in the stomach with his heavy boots. The air whooshed out of the prone Doctor and a groan escaped his mouth.

The ninth incarnation strode around the figure on the floor, his mind frantically working to come up with some other plan, some other way of getting Rose out and intact without allowing this pretty boy to have his way.

There had to be some way out of this without giving his nemesis more freedom. The more freedom he had the harder it would be to subjugate him afterwards, and this would only make it easier for him to escape and for his to reassert himself over his body.

Which had been his plan all along.

Sneaky little bastard.

But therein lay the trouble. He wasn't lying. He had been this skinny pretty boy when he was with Rose, he had watched and learned all there was and, despite his impulsiveness, the pretty boy was actually quite clever and this plan was a damned good one.

The Doctor had been wracking his brains and could think of no other way out. He knew that the only way to help Rose was to venture into her mindscape with his other self. The two of them—or one whole mind as opposed to two separate fragments—would be the equal of any Mara.

If he rejoined with his inner idiot he could find the centre of calm and defeat this monster.

But at what cost?

Rose would then know that he wasn't who he said he was and then it was only a matter of time before she assisted his idiotic older self to regain control.

He'd have lost Rose months too soon.

The tenth Doctor got to his feet and stood his ground. "Like it or not," he said, "we have to work together on this; you know that there is no other way for it to work."

"Right."

The sudden agreeability wrong-footed the older Doctor and his jaw dropped, just in time for the Doctor to slam a right hook into it. He sent him reeling into the wall, his head impacting the broken plaster with a resounding thud, sending flakes of white plasterboard to the pristine floor.

The Doctor lost his temper and surged forwards. "This isn't helping!" he all but screamed, his thin face contorted with rage. "Beat me up as much as you like but it's Rose who is danger right now. Rose who we need to be concentrating on—so STOP IT!"

The two men faced each other across the silent room, teeth gritted, jaw muscles clenched. The two were matched in as much as they were one and the same but, as the Doctor had said, each brought a very different dimension to the name and it would be a close thing to determine whether brawn would win over flexibility.

Just when the older Doctor thought that he was going to have to brush up on his Venusian martial arts skills, his younger self broke into a manic grin, the whole of his face stretching to fit.

"Fantastic!"

The Doctor blinked. "What?"

"All right then, mate," the man in the leather jacket strode over and leaped on the bed, sliding up against the headboard with his hands behind his head, the very picture of nonchalance.

"What?"

The Doctor on the bed shrugged. "No point us arguing, is there. So tell me all."

"What?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "I know how this goes." He waggled his fingers as if pointing from one person to another in quick succession. "'What,' 'what,' 'what,' 'what,' 'I'm sorry, I'm so very sorry.' Gets old quick, let me tell ya, and for another thing, why do you have to stand there with that gormless look on our face, it's not attractive."

The pin-stripes were smoothed down and the trademark mercurial mood was back in place as the Doctor sniffed. "Right."

He joined his alter ego on the bed and they sat in silence for a moment.

The uneasy truce was broken when the older Doctor sighed, unable to keep quiet. "So, the Mara are back."

"All hail the Queen of the obvious," the man in the leather jacket rolled his eyes. "So recap for those of us that weren't paying attention. The Mara were created on the Manussian Empire's finest home world by molecular engineering gone wrong. The great Crystal was supposed to harness and focus galactic energies for fuel purposes but instead it focussed negative ones from the whole planet which created this species."

"Sort of like concentrated evil."

"Sort of, yeah. That raw energy converted itself into creating the Mara who dwell in the dark places of the mind."

"Inherent evil in all of us, we see it all the time."

They shared a look of mutual exasperation with life in general and sentient life in particular.

"Right," the tenth Doctor said quickly. "If I remember right we trapped it on Deva Loka before with the cunning use of mirrors. Quite brilliant."

"Wouldn't work again," the younger man said with a shake of his head. "They learn fast, especially if it'll mean death to them. We need something new."

The tenth Doctor sniffed. "Well, it'd be worth a shot."

The other Doctor shook his head again, his face as serious as his voice. "We'll call that plan B."

"Yeah, we could, of course we could. We could, really. We actually have a plan this time?"

"It's Rose," he was gently reminded. "On Manussa we had the crystal as a nucleus, and that Dojan bloke helped us—"

"—with the aid of snake venom—"

"—with the aid of snake venom to reach inside—"

"I'm still not so pleased with that, you know," the tenth Doctor interjected, "hallucinatropic drugs to aid in transcendental meditation. I mean it's a bit like an acid trip and not particularly, you know, sensible. It wasn't really needed for us anyway, being a Time Lord."

The ninth incarnation pinched the bridge of his nose. "I swear you have some kind of attention disorder."

"Ooh, pardon me, carry on. Won't happen again."

"I wish," he said through gritted teeth. "But, daft clothes and odd rambles aside, you do have a point."

"Thank you," said the tenth Doctor smugly.

"No fashion sense, but a point."

"Oi!"

"We need to find the still point. To obliterate negative energies we need to be polar opposite."

The Tenth Doctor shot him a look. "So we need to focus only on the positive."

"Yep."

"The two of us."

"Yep."

"Together."

"Ye— ah."

There was a beat of silence.

"We're all going to die, aren't we?"

"Yep."

The tenth Doctor shrugged prosaically. "Oh well, had to happen sometime. Next time I might be ginger… and less psychotic. Anyway. This Snake dance, never been one for rituals much. Except Christmas—love Christmas."

"I know," the Doctor glared. "But we don't have to dress up and dance. I don't… anyway. With the two of us and the memories of what the Dojan did to help us we can find the still point within ourselves, focus on the Mara and trap it in some kind of shell."

"Like the dream crystals!"

"Like the dream crystals!" they echoed with huge grins.

"Once trapped we can get the TARDIS to send it back where it came from."

"Or destroy it."

They stared at each other again, the tenth Doctor trying to come to terms with the casual command to destroy their enemy. It was a far cry from his own way of doing things, not even giving the Mara a chance to get away. But this was Rose and they were running out of time.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," the ninth incarnation said swiftly, cutting the tension cleanly. "Right now we have to go into Rose's dreamscape. You head back to her memories of the clearing and grab one of the dreaming crystals and I'll head there and try to distract it."

The two men reached across the bed to touch the foreheads of each other in an intimate movement- it had a perfect symmetry and would have been harmoniously beautiful if any one had seen it.

Calm and serene.

Save for the blue eyes that flashed opened momentarily and narrowed on his pinstriped counterpart.

"When this is over, there will be a reckoning."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The ninth incarnation of the Doctor, comfortable in his trademark black jeans and jumper, found himself quickly back in Rose's dreamscape. He rushed through her head searching for the fight he knew would still be raging in Rose's mind.

He arrived in the same place the dream-Rose had shown him where the battle still raged in the dream-clearing. It was obvious that Rose was losing as the trees grew more insubstantial and transparent; their edges blurring in with the sky and their leaves lost in the cloud masses that hung with grey menace over the horizon. The bubble showed the scene with more clarity that he could bear and the sight of the Mara with Rose held in its slippery grasp made him growl with animalistic abandon.

His hands touched the bubble and he could feel the slick surface become elastic as he concentrated his will onto the object.

It was a trick of Time Lords taught from infancy and it was a matter of seconds to subtly shift the molecules so that he could walk through the bubble with no more difficulty than entering the next room.

Once through he raced over the harsh ground, dashing to where Rose struggled pitifully, as the Mara choked her prey with one hand.

With more anger than strength the Doctor wrenched the Mara away from his girl, taking the supernatural force by surprise.

Rose was dropped and slid down the wall, clutching frantically at her throat and making a gurgling sound; but the Mara—who spun to cast a vicious stare at the Doctor—registered no after effects of the battle, she wasn't even winded.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" he suggested with a glare before taking in its appearance for the first time.

All the gloves were off and the Mara had taken on the form that was most pleasing to it; a snake-like creature with silvery green scales and slotted red eyes, a huge maw-like mouth which housed two sharp fangs and forked tongue. It had humanoid arms but with talons where fingers should be and it had two more of those than the average human. But the most deadly weapon in its arsenal was that strong whip-like tail which rattled ominously and was as thick as a small car.

The Doctor was forced to look up into those piercing eyes and he fought the very primal instinct to run away.

"Rose," he said without taking his eyes away from the creature, "are you all right?"

"Define all right," she gasped.

"Not dead," he shot back.

"I'm good."

He shifted his attention back to the Mara. "You won't win," he vowed. "If anything happens to Rose, I'll destroy you. I'll kill you and then I'll go after all your kind and I'll eradicate them all from the stinking dark places."

"Words!" hissed the Mara with less than appropriate fear. "Pitiful species where expelling of air is all the threat you can muster."

And with those words the Mara kicked out at the Doctor. With minute precision he grabbed the advancing foot and felt a smidgeon of pride at his abilities…which rapidly fell as the tail he'd forgotten about whipped up and knocked him off his feet.

He lay winded on the ground and frowned heavily. "I'm pretty sure that's cheating," he rasped and swung his own legs around, knocking the Mara to the ground by his side. He kicked his legs back and used the momentum to spring to his feet. He ignored the fallen enemy and raced over to Rose who was still lying on the floor.

"Rose?" he asked gently, checking her bruised and battered face. She gave him a weary smile.

His hand cradled her cheek and his hearts skipped a beat as he gazed down at the woman he loved.

"Hello," she wheezed, "you're a sight for sore…everything."

He realised that this was the first time she had seen him in his old body and felt a rush of warmth at the smile she gave in greeting.

"Oh, Rose." He pushed her hair away from her face and looked down into her eyes with intensity. "You have to fight, Rose."

"I'm so tired," she bit down on her lip. "I'll try. I will try, Doctor."

"That's all I can ask," he offered philosophically and gave her a very real, very heart-stopping smile.

He was suddenly aware that there was an odd kind of silence behind him and he half-turned to see where the Mara had got to.

Despite his position he wasn't expecting an assault from the rear and he let out a startled yelp as a clawed hand clutched his shoulder and spun him around.

The Mara hauled him off Rose like he weighed no more than a feather and held him up in the air, his feet dangling like bait on a hook.

"The mighty Time Lord!" the Mara mocked.

"Hey, you were the one with your tongue down my throat, so don't knock it," he warned, trying to peel those talons off his leather jacket.

He had hoped that he could get through this without having to resort to fighting, more for Rose's sake than his own. He knew that she was a little frightened by the savagery released by his temper and he had wanted to spare her that. But it seemed like fate had other ideas.

He slung out with the flat of his hand and slapped the Mara with all his strength.

Stung more than hurt, the Mara reared back with a cry of surprise and shock and he was, once again, dropped to the ground. Scrambling to his feet he punched the belly of the beast and ducked under the retaliatory fist.

The Doctor felt the impact of his next punch all the way clear to his shoulder blades and was silently congratulating himself when the Mara grabbed hold of his hair…what little he had… and tugged.

It was a girly move that he hadn't anticipated and he yelped in a very unmanly way and responded in kind by stamping on the nearest foot.

The Mara bellowed and let go of his sore roots.

He backed away, breathing heavily. "This," he said, "is ridiculous. We're fighting like cheerleaders."

The Mara cocked her head at him and slashed out with her tail. A whip-like crack echoed in the clearing and the Doctor found himself hurled into a tree twenty feet away. Hitting the trunk hard, feeling a rib crack, the Doctor cried out in pain, bounced to the equally hard ground where he felt another rib crack.

The Mara gave a sibilant cry of joy and advanced on her prey.

She was stopped by a sudden thwack to the back of her head, causing the Mara to lose track of her prey as he scuttled backwards.

Spinning on her prehensile tail she was greeted by a weary Rose who held a fallen branch in her hands.

"Hands. Off!" Rose snarled and swung the branch again, catching the Mara a crack against its maw.

The Doctor looked on with pride as Rose stood her ground. She was shaky but still defiant. He was distracted by a sudden flurry of motion by the bubble and glanced up as his alter ego— Doctor ten— pushed his way through the barrier with several dream crystals in his hands.

He raced over, his great coat flapping in the breeze and ducked by the side of the fallen Doctor.

"Is this really the time to lie down on the job?" he asked with a mocking inflection.

The Doctor just glared at him. "Did you come here to make jokes, or to actually be of some help for once?"

The other Doctor looked up in time to see the Mara back-hand Rose clean across the clearing and advance on her.

"Right!" he said through gritted teeth.

Even as he made his way forward he could see Rose scrambling awkwardly on her hands and heels frantically backing away from the approaching Mara. The Doctor could see plainly the panic etched on her face as the monster closed in on her.

The younger Doctor hurried over to the battle whilst his older self planted the dream crystals in their places.

But their need for the crystals to be placed in formation allowed the Mara time to bridge the gap between her and Rose and she reached down with a scaly hand, grabbing Rose by the neck. The serpentine fingers closed in with incredible force around Rose's delicate throat. As the Mara yanked the barely conscious Rose to her feet and beyond, holding her in the air with a grip of iron, Rose gasped for air, her hands scrabbling at the choke hold.

But the Mara, certain of victory tightened her steel talons into a stranglehold. Coughing and choking, Rose's body and mind swayed in and out of consciousness. She was barely holding on, all but ready to let go and give in, and then the Doctor was there, swinging a dream crystal like a scythe, chopping off the Mara's right arm like a tree branch, the limb thudding to the ground.

With an inhuman screech the Mara stared in disbelief at her fallen limb and Rose mustered the last of her strength to throw a right cross into the face of the Mara, taking a pointed fang and bloody scales with her. Rose was unceremoniously dropped and the Mara turned on the Doctor.

But before she could retaliate, the other Doctor thumped the last of the dream crystals in place and yelled to his counterpart. "It's done!"

The ninth Doctor grabbed Rose and hauled her into his arms. With a flourish he jumped over the circle made by the dream crystals and lay Rose gently on the ground outside the wall.

Seeing that she was trapped the Mara screamed and rushed forward, only to be stopped by the barrier Rose had forged through her dreamscape.

The tenth Doctor came over to where the ninth held Rose in his arms. He looked down at her and stroked her hand.

Rose raised bleary eyes and tried to focus on him. "Doctor?" she said confused as her gaze darted from one to the other.

"Sleep, Rose," her old Doctor said soothingly. "We'll explain later, this is nothing for you to worry 'bout."

Rose reached out and grabbed his hand. "G-ood to see y-you again," she whispered before her eyes fell on the new, new Doctor. "See you soon." And with that she fell asleep, her body catching up with the beating she had been given.

Studiously avoiding each other's gaze they stood together and stared at the Mara.

"So," the Doctor tucked his hands into his pin-striped pockets.

"Yeah," the Doctor rammed his hands into his leather jacket.

"Still point."

"Inner harmony."

"Positive vibes."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

The ninth Doctor faced his older self and took a deep breath. "Right, let's do this then."

With a nod the Doctor paused, his hands halfway to the other's forehead. "You realise that this will give me greater control over you. You do know that, don't you?"

The ninth Doctor gave a brief glance down to a sleeping Rose knowing that this was the beginning of the end but also was aware that there was nothing else he could do, not if it meant saving Rose. He nodded harshly. "Yeah, I know. I'll fight you harder."

"You'll have to."

And with a final push they were in the same mind.

Consciousness streamed as they searched for the still point.

_Home and family._

_I know the Time Lords -- pallid, tedious worms!_

_Humor._

_You know, the worse the situation the worse your jokes get._

_Susan's birth._

_Death is the price we pay for progress, you know._

_Endless species. The beauty of creation._

_Time War. Daleks._

_Life._

_You are endlessly agitating, unceasingly mischievous. Will you never stop? _

_Humans._

_Anybody remotely interesting is mad, in some way or another._

_Earth._

_I tolerate this century but I don't enjoy it._

_Paradise Island._

_I loathe bus stations. Terrible places. Full of lost luggage and souls._

_Can we please try and be positive?_

_I'm trying._

_We have nothing in common. How can we find inner peace if we are fighting amongst ourselves?_

_There must be something?!_

_Better with two._

_Yes. _

_How come you sounds like you're from the north?_

_Is that meant to be impressive?_

_Is it always this dangerous?_

_I made my choice a long time ago and I'm never gonna leave you._

_Never gonna leave you._

_Perfect peace._

_The inner stillness._

The world around the two Doctors blurred and pulsated with light and gradually the two heads melded into one, the pinstripes faded and hair grew, hands slimmed and trainers vanished until one man stood in the clearing.

He held his hands up, his eyes glowing white and the crystals activated, humming with power and resonating with energy.

The crystals blew shafts of rainbow light from the top of each and they converged to trap the Mara in a cocoon of colour, an archway formed of purest golden light.

Through that archway came a sudden, strong gust of wind, a veritable tornado of particles which converged to form a shape. One lone shape; tall and willowy, but filled with power. Or maybe it was a vision, at once musty and transparent and yet distinctive and real. It held out long appendages that might have been arms and gestured to the Mara.

The creature that had been so much trouble let loose a scream so bone chilling that even in his newly awakened state the Doctor was taken aback.

The Mara's flesh began to shed from it's body, long thin strips of scaly skin sliding to the floor with ribbons of red tinged flesh slopping like butchers cast-offs. The Mara threw its head back in pain as the muscles and sinew, cartilage and organs began to peel away. As the monstrous creature unravelled piece by piece the Doctor had to look away until, at last its suffering was ended and the Mara simply fell to pieces, ashes flying into the air, a grey cloud of death hovering over the still green grass of the clearing.

As quickly as it had come the vortex vanished, the figure disappeared, and all that was left was the amalgamated Doctor and the comatose Rose lying on the ground as the ashes settled.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Awareness flickered around the edges of Rose's mind, fingers of reality intruding on what would otherwise have been a wonderful dream. A dream of her two Doctors standing watch over her, making her feel so very, very safe.

As consciousness took over and Rose opened one eye she realised that it hadn't all been a dream.

He was there, her Doctor, in rolled up sleeves and tattered boots, sitting in the chair next to her bed holding her hand. His scruffy hair was tousled, like he had been running his fingers through it and, though his eyes were closed, it was obvious that he had been watching over her.

Rose felt a burst of affection for him and reached out millimetres with her fingers to touch his. The effect of skin on skin was electric and his eyes shot open, fixing on hers with unerring intensity.

"You're awake," he said somewhat unnecessarily.

Rose simply smiled and after a few beats he returned it.

He gave her hand one squeeze and let go, rising from his seat to walk over to the cupboard on the wall.

As Rose watched him go she realised that the pristine white walls and smell of pine antiseptic meant that she was in the Medical Bay… again. Which would also explain the slightly dazed, euphoric feeling that filled her. Obviously she had been hurt and the Doctor had given her some of those wonderful alien drugs that took away pain.

Oh, she liked those.

She had many memories of this place and images of broken bones and sprains, alien sicknesses and injections filled her mind. Sadly their penchant for danger meant that they both ended up with more than their fair share of aches and pains, although sometimes the bed rest was a nice change.

Resting in bed, Rose laughed internally at the thought.

The Doctor came back to her with a scanner and held it over her body.

"Very Star Trek," Rose commented with a sly smile and the Doctor gave her a small smile, still not saying much.

Rose would have frowned at that but there was something starting to buzz at the back of her head. Some type of memory threatening to break through the nice drug fuelled haze that made her feel so good. She blinked as her toes turned cold. The effect of disappearing warmth ebbed up from her feet and by the time it got to her head Rose could feel pounding in her brain and ice in her veins.

"What's wrong with me?" Rose said somewhat scared at the sensation, and then it hit her.

The Mara, the fight. The two Doctors and the never-ending darkness.

Rose shot up in bed and the world spun, the room hurtling around her screaming head.

She'd had something inside her head, something that had possessed and dominated her. It had raped her thoughts and twisted them until she wasn't sure which were hers and which had invaded her brain like a parasite, leeching away her personality and spirit until all that was left was hollow. Black fingers had held her down while she watched her body do things that she tried to block. It had seeped into her skin and made her an alien in her own life. It had played on her insecurities and taken the one thing she knew she could count on and turned it against her.

It took over her body and violated every part of it.

The horror of what had happened to her flooded every cell and Rose wrapped her arms around herself, feeling anew every inch of the betrayal; ice-cold and numb.

It was sick, it was unthinkable. It had happened.

Her hands began to shake with the memories and Rose felt waves of nausea swell up inside.

What if it was still there, waiting inside her for a moment to strike? What if the Mara was lying hidden in her subconscious like a snake? Ready to devour, to destroy, to take her apart and drag the Doctor down with her?

From far away Rose felt the Doctor press his hands onto her chest and bid her to lie back down but she was too afraid.

Of all the things that she had done and seen nothing had ever scared her more than when she was not in control of her own body. She had had a taste of it with the Time Vortex and again with Cassandra and she had thought that she was beyond possession. She was wrong and it felt like she was bleeding inside.

"Is it gone?" she cried scratching at her arms frantically, like she could see the tattoo of the snake embedded upon her delicate skin. "Did you get it out?"

Her hands flew to her extreme case of bed-head and she tugged at her blonde hair, rubbing her forehead as she turned frantically to the Doctor. "Is it gone?"

"Yeah," he said shortly, "it's gone."

"The Mara?" Rose requested clarification. "You got it out?"

"Yes we…I got it out," he grabbed her flailing hands.

"No," Rose tried to think hard, tried to see inside her own head, making the pounding worse.

"Rose," he soothed as she tried to grab her head again. "It's gone. I promise."

She looked up into those murky eyes, trying to see the truth but it was as obscured as the colour and she sagged in despair.

"It was in my head, it was inside me."

"I know," the Doctor sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand over her cheek, "you gave me quite a scare, Rose Tyler. I told you, you were jeopardy friendly, didn't I?"

His ill-timed humour was not amusing and Rose was far too unnerved to appreciate his attempts to be blasé.

"It isn't funny," she snapped. "That thing was inside me. It made me think things, it… God, Doctor. You don't know what it's like to have someone else in your head. Someone who hates you and wants you to destroy yourself." Rose gasped for breath.

The Doctor sniffed slightly trying not to explain the delicious irony that her statement caused. He didn't know what it was like have someone else in his head? Don't be so sure about that, he thought as his little prisoner pushed against the barrier he had erected inside his mind.

Rose had been asleep for the last three hours under heavy sedation. He had hoped the rest would give her some time to recover mentally before she had to face what had been done to her.

All that time he had been fighting a battle with his tenth self and the strain was staring to take its toll. He hadn't known exactly how much control his inner annoyance had gained after this little episode and he was alarmed to realise how much resistance he now had to put up.

The incarnation currently incarcerated deep within his psyche had indeed upped his game and was throwing everything he had against the barriers that were no longer as thick and impenetrable as they had been.

In fact, were he to be honest, he knew that the time he had left with Rose had been more than dramatically reduced. It had been devastated and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out against the man within without giving himself away to Rose.

She had already seen the two of them together and it was only a matter of time before she put two and two together and came up with…well, two.

She was clever, his Rose… which begged the question.

"How did the Mara trap you?"

Rose blinked at him. "What?"

"I've met the Mara before," he said raising an eyebrow at her, "The Mara gained control of one of my companions before by making her agree to swap places." He gave her a hard stare. "Now, daft ape that you are, you're not that stupid, Rose. So," he spread his arms wide, "what made you give up control?"

Rose bit her lip, thinking back.

_She could see the curled form of the Doctor in the bottom of the cage. His leather jacket all but hiding his face as he writhed in agony. _

"_I can break free," the Doctor managed with gritted teeth, shaking her out of her reverie. "But I need help."_

_He crawled towards her. "I need you to let me in, to accept me, Rose."_

"It was you," Rose breathed and then slammed her mouth shut as she realised what she had just revealed.

The Doctor frowned, deep furrows in his forehead. "What d'ya mean?"

Rose shook her head, knowing that the guilt he already bore would go into overdrive if she admitted that it had been the vision of him in danger that allowed her good sense to be overruled.

But the Doctor was not a man to be gain-said and he grabbed her chin and stared her down, his eyes boring into hers.

"Rose," he said with more than a hint of warning. "Tell me."

Rose bit her lip and capitulated. "It was you," she confessed. "The Mara pretended to be you, trapped in my mind. It looked like you, sounded like you and… even smelled like you." Rose looked down, ashamed of her own idiocy. "It said that we were trapped in a mind field, that you had come looking for me and gotten trapped and the force…or whatever, was using your telepathic abilities to hurt you. You said that if we melded together, like you did with Madame De Pompadour, we'd be stronger and we'd be able to beat it. You asked if we could join together and I said yes."

He stared at her incredulously, the rug pulled from under his feet. "Just like that?"

Rose shrugged uncomfortably.

He couldn't believe it.

After her little debacle with Cassandra, his later self had sat down with her and tried to teach her about shielding, letting Rose know all of the dangers that were associated with mind control and the limits of telepathy. Rose had been properly scared and yet, when it came down to it, Rose, fully aware of all of the implications of telepathy and someone entering her head, would have just let him into her mind. The amount of faith and trust Rose had in him was humbling.

He had seen most of what the universe had to offer, had travelled to some of the most breathtaking places and yet this small human continued to awe him.

Rose Tyler was magnificent. No, she was better than that, better than brilliant or fantastic. Rose Tyler was… there were no words for it.

He reached over and stroked her cheek. "Rose Tyler, you amaze me."

Rose looked down, her face pink and warm. "Thanks."

She looked so enticing to him just then, with her flushed skin and her sweet innocence. That, coupled with his delayed reaction to almost losing her, was making him more than ready to push her back on the bed and find out how far down that subtle pink blush went.

It would be a bad idea, however, since Rose was still very much engrossed in her experiences.

He pushed down his feelings and inhaled. "How are you? Do you remember much?"

Rose gave another shrug. "I remember going to sleep, walking through my mind and talking to the Mara. I remember coming back and her taking over, I remember…" her pink face flamed full red and the Doctor suddenly recalled what the Mara had done in Rose's body, his arousal coming back in full force.

"Oh, my, God!" Rose gasped, her hands flying to her burning cheeks, "she…and you. You…!"

The Doctor felt a wicked grin cross his lips. "Yes, we did. Or we were going to. Until I realised that it wasn't you."

Rose seemed not to hear him, being fully content in her humiliation. "God, that is so embarrassing!"

"Perfectly natural bodily reaction," he said casually glad to distract her.

Rose glared at him. "Oh, yeah. I remember _your_ reaction, Doctor," she shot back. "Enjoying yourself?!"

"I was." His admission stopped Rose in her tracks, her mouth dropping open in shock.

"What?" she squeaked.

The Doctor dropped the scanner on the side and grabbed Rose's hips with his hands, pulling her onto his lap.

"See, Rose, I've been waiting for the perfect time, the time when you trusted me and wanted me completely."

"I do!" Rose interrupted and he placed an admonishing finger on her lips.

"Quiet, my turn to talk."

"When isn't it?" she grumbled but fell silent and he grinned in approval.

"Figures you'd turn all my clever plans on their ear and, yes," he said quickly off her amused look, "I actually had a plan this time. A brilliant plan, with diagrams and…" he trailed off, "point is, I realised that I'm acting as stupid as the stupid bloke I was before. Always putting it off, waiting for the right time, when the right time is any time you're here."

Rose's insides melted into a big pile of mush and she smiled softly. "Really?"

"Told you," he said off-handedly, "Love you, daft alien that I am. I've always…well."

He stood and placed her gently on her feet.

Unable to resist just one taste, he caressed her lips with his own, drawing on the soft texture of her mouth in one brief, tender kiss.

He pulled away, relishing the way her eyelids drifted open lazily. He held out his hand. "Rose Tyler, do you want to…dance?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 WARNING THIS PART HAS "DANCING"  
**

Rose couldn't quite believe he'd said what she thought he'd said. Had he really just thrown aside years of repression and avoidance and said…

"When you say 'dance'?" she said breathlessly.

His wolfish grin did things to her that were illegal on several planets.

"I mean…our version of dance." He pulled her in close to him, so close that she could feel his wiry body all along hers, could feel the warmth of his solid frame even through her clothes.

"Dance with me," he urged against her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

Rose bit her lip and closed her eyes as his breath drifted across her body.

"Dance?" she whispered, her voice rough around the edges like her nerves.

"Dance," he demanded as he slanted his mouth over hers.

This was no mere kiss, it was a demand for submission, a promise of forever and a seduction wrapped up in tongue and lips and sheer undeniable attraction.

Rose was powerless to resist and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he plundered, trying to use that famous oral fixation to taste every inch of her mouth.

Rose liked the way he tasted, dark, potent and a little reckless.

She wrapped her fingers in his thick hair and tugged lightly, breaking the kiss so she could take in some of that much needed but interfering air.

He blinked at the intrusion, wondering if he had read her wrong but was reassured as she faced him, a sweetly seductive look on her face

"Oxygen," she explained, "us apes have to breathe occasionally."

"Inconvenient," he agreed.

"I'll make it up to you," Rose vowed with a smile that wrapped around both his hearts and squeezed.

Certain he was hallucinating; he touched that silky soft blonde hair to make sure that she was real.

"What'dya have in mind?" he asked huskily.

Rose stretched her arms around his neck and pressed her soft body against him, and the Doctor was suddenly, intimately aware that she was real.

With a cat-like smirk Rose kissed him back.

When her tongue slipped past his lips, he felt as if he'd been burned. Her tongue moved in an erotic invitation he couldn't resist and he pulled her against him tighter, every inch of their bodies pressing against each other. He was stronger than Rose had thought was possible in this body and she discovered that she liked the way his muscles strained beneath her fingertips.

His chest was hard against her and as he deepened the kiss she could feel a rumble of pleasure deep within him,

She arched against him, wanting to feel more of him, loving the noises that rose, unbidden from him.

He groaned and dropped his mouth to her throat. "You don't know what you've started," he growled against her skin.

He grabbed for her t-shirt, yanking it off in one smooth movement and throwing it to the floor, the scrap of material forgotten the second it left his hands. Rose was reaching for his leather jacket, pushing the too-big top off him even as he reached for the snap of her jeans.

Hands tangled at cross purposes and they laughed as they fought to undress each other, green jumper thrown to the end of the bed, Levi jeans slung over his shoulder haphazardly, boots kicked off and trainers thrown at the X ray machine and suddenly they were laying on the medical bed, the small scraps of Rose's underwear and his own jeans the only things left on.

He stared down at the ridiculously enticing pieces of cotton and his fingers curved possessively into her hips.

Rose blushed at the everyday black cotton underwear. "If I knew we were…dancing, I would have worn something a bit nicer."

"I like these," he whispered, eyes full of desire and promise. "But I prefer you without." He tore the offending articles off her and grinned at the scraps in his hand.

He looked down to share the joke of how easily she was disrobed but the scenery caught his attention and stopped his mouth.

All he could do was look.

Naked, her blonde hair spread out over the white covers, her blue eyes brimming with passion, she reminded him of a conqueror's prize. He had stared at her cleavage before on many occasions, grateful for the twenty-first century fashion of low cut tops and clingy outfits, but seeing them in all their glory was something different.

"Huh," he said, not realising that he had his trademark "pole-axed" expression on.

"What?" Rose bit her lip nervously as he stared.

"I'm a breast man," he shook his head in delight, "wasn't expecting that."

Rose giggled and he grinned back at her.

"You're doing a lot of looking," she complained, leaning up on one elbow. "And you got more clothes on than me."

She reached for his belt and took her time undoing the buckle and sliding her hands against his hips to pull the trousers off.

"You're going to kill me," he told her, closing his eyes.

"Too slow?" Rose teased. "Am I making you wait?"

"Yes," he growled with gritted teeth.

"Oh dear, wonder what _that_ feels like."

He grabbed her hands, his eyes promising retribution for her ruthless teasing.

When she poked her tongue out between her teeth he almost lost it.

_Go slow, go slow, go slow. _ He mentally chanted the words like a mantra while his body grew rigid and his breath shortened.

Rose wasn't waiting any more, though and leaned down to press feathered kisses against his exposed hipbone as she finally divested him of his trousers and he found it excruciating to watch her head so close to his throbbing hardness. Just a breath away, her hair sliding like exquisite torture over him.

She slid her hands up his thighs, then to the front where she cradled him in her palm.

A wounded groan of longing came from deep inside him.

With wicked eyes she moved her thumb over his shaft and he jerked.

Rose lifted her gaze to his and her desire to bring him pleasure was written all over her face. "What do you want?"

"Everything," he blurted breathlessly, "I want to touch you and taste and know every single inch." He shook his head. "But if I don't get inside you soon, I think I might just regenerate."

Rose laughed as he grabbed her shoulder and hauled her up against his chest, catching her mouth in a sizzling kiss.

Savouring her naked body, the Doctor stroked her inside until she was trembling.

"Doctor," she cried but he just shook his head.

Not yet, he thought, not just yet. She wasn't his, she wasn't begging for him.

He stroked her again and she keened in his arms.

"Please!" she begged and rush of satisfaction curved his lips, her sweetly begging lips affecting him like a live wire.

Locking his gaze with her, letting her know that it was him who was bringing her such pleasure, he positioned himself between her thigh and thrust inside her as deep as he could go.

Encircling him like a tight, wet glove, Rose arched towards him. It was his turn to tremble, his turn to ache and beg as they started up a rhythm older than he was.

He watched her, savouring every millisecond, every breath, every heartbeat until Rose convulsed around him, her shudders sending him joining her only seconds later.

Five minutes later she'd caught her breath enough to speak.

"Everything?" She asked. "I think everything might just kill me."

He grinned against her skin. "Oh, you'd be surprised what you can live through."

Rose poked his back, enjoying the weight of him over her. "No Disney quotes in bed."

He leaned up on one arm and stared down at her. Her hair was plastered to her forehead, other strands going wildly askew and her lips swollen and red.

He was sure that there were more beautiful women in the universe, but he couldn't think of a single one.

"You're beautiful," it slipped from his lips.

Rose felt an odd tightening in her chest. "For a human?" she offered, even though he was already shaking his head.

"For you, for my Rose. Mine." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her nose.

"Yours?" she challenged but his eyes were hard.

"Yeah, got a problem with that?"

She gave a half shake of her head. "S'long as you're mine."

With a devilish grin he rocked his hips, causing Rose to gasp causing his own desire to start again. "I think that can be arranged."

And he branded her with his own type of possession.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

The next morning the Doctor woke to the sight of bright medical lights filtering into his consciousness and Rose nestled against his side still asleep.

He lifted his head to look at her. Her hair was tousled, her lips swollen, and the white sheet was tucked beneath one of her pretty little breasts, baring it to his appreciative sight.

As his eyes traced the slight curve he marvelled at being lucky enough to find out, after 900 years, that he was breast man.

Of course he was also very enticed by the way one of her legs gently entwined with his. He could feel her softly curved belly press against his side, and one of her hands resting in between his double heart-beats. Her breaths were soft and regular and, as his hands drifted over her hip he was delighted with the way she inched closer to him.

Maybe he wasn't just a breast man, but a Rose man.

That made sense.

He let a smile curve his lips as he watched her for a moment, lingering in his favourite…well, no, second favourite past-time, now.

For a forbidden moment he wondered what it would be like to wake up in the morning, every morning, with Rose in his bed. The image haunted, seduced and unsettled him. He pushed it aside.

_A little late, _remarked a voice inside him.

"I thought you'd rear your ugly head," he muttered internally, stroking hair away from Rose's face.

_I was…busy,_ the voice was a little hesitant and the Doctor felt his lips curve.

"So was I."

He could feel the wave of anger and jealousy wash over him as his inner self made his feelings known.

_This doesn't change things, I'll get out and then you'll have lost Rose forever._

"But I'll have this," he murmured softly, letting one hand hover over Rose's sleep-warm skin. She stirred slightly and he held his breath waiting until she dropped back into pleasant dreams.

The inner voice was silent for a moment and the Doctor was glad. The last thing he wanted was for his first morning with Rose to be ruined by fighting his other self.

And he was honest. Even if his tenth incarnation escaped and took over, even if he was pushed back into his mind or destroyed forever, he'd still know that he had had Rose as his own for one night.

She had completely capitulated to him and they had loved each other in the way that he'd remember forever…or the rest of his life at least.

He'd had her first, before the pretty boy and that gave him more than a small sense of satisfaction.

Mine, he thought with primal pleasure. Rose is all mine.

He curved his arms around her and held tight, like a lion protecting it's mate, unwilling to let anything come between them now or ever again.

Rose had wondered what it would feel like; the morning after her first time with the Doctor.

She'd wondered if things would be awkward, if he'd pretend it hadn't happened or he regretted it and spouted off at a million miles an hour whilst avoiding her gaze.

She'd wondered if he'd be nervous and tense or blasé and casual and she wasn't sure which worried her more.

Any way that he would react would show that their relationship was altered forever and so she opened her eyes with no little trepidation.

The room they'd moved to in the night was warm and cosy in purple and mauve, collections of books and oddments littering every surface.

It was soothing, familiar… and empty.

The Doctor was nowhere to be found and Rose sagged back into the mattress.

Right, so it was avoidance.

She should have expected that; after all that was the way he often handled things, running away and hiding until it was all forgotten. That was the way he had handled Madame De Pompadour's death and Rose's pain over that episode. It was how he had handled the Dalek in Iowa and the 'death' of Captain Jack.

Avoidance and evasion. It was a childish method of denial; hiding behind his hands and sticking his fingers in his ears.

For the Lord of Time he could sometimes be so damn juvenile.

Rose slammed her hands against the bed and decided that she would, as she always did, follow his lead.

As she made her way to the shower, she tried to lift her heavy heart by telling herself that at least she had had that one night with him.

Even if he did an abrupt 180 and decided that it was all a mistake, at least he had showed her that he loved her that once.

It would have to be enough.

She entered the console room slowly, trying to disguise her feelings as best she could.

He was there, standing by the central column with his green jumper sleeves rolled up and his leather jacket slung over the chair. His wiry frame was turned away from her and Rose bit her lip as she remembered what it was like to run her hands over that deceptively lean body and feel him shudder inside her.

With a smile as fake as the British summer, Rose moved into the control room and cleared her throat.

The Doctor turned his body slightly and held up one finger on a gesture of "wait" and she bristled.

Rose Tyler was not going to damn well be ignored.

If he was frantically back peddling then the least he could do was face her and be a coward. There was no way that she was going to let him get away with anything else, the pathetic excuse for a Time Lo—

Her thoughts were abruptly cut off as the Doctor bounded across the control room and plastered his lips to hers.

Shocked into stillness Rose was swept away by the none too gentle assault on her senses and it wasn't until his hands reached down to haul her hips against his that her brain caught up with her.

Odd type of avoidance, this.

He pulled away, a fierce expression of satisfaction at her dazed look.

"Morning!" he said brightly. "Sorry about the thing," he gestured to the console. "Trying to get the TARDIS to let us off Deva Loka. Feels bad about yesterday so she's being a bit more compliant. Mind you," he said wolfishly, "if she wanted to ground us, I'm sure we could think of something to do while we wait."

Rose, to her astonishment, couldn't help the blush that spread over her cheeks at the lascivious leer he sent her.

He wasn't avoiding, he wasn't even pretending that it hadn't happened or that he regretted it. If anything it was almost how they were before but more so. Friends and more.

Joy stole her breath and Rose hugged him tightly.

He rubbed his hands over her back. "You all right?"

"Oh, yeah!" It was Rose who pulled back this time, happiness sending her bouncing over to the sofa. "Way more than all right. So Doctor, where we off to today?"

The Doctor rubbed his hands. "Figured we might as well drop in and see Jack. Have a bit of lunch."

Rose beamed at him. "Cheers. Bet he thinks we've legged it, again."

The Doctor sniffed and shrugged. "Yeah, well. Next stop, Torchwood."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Jack Harkness had been staring moodily at the spot where the TARDIS had dematerialised six days ago. His mood was a mixture of annoyance, resignation and bitterness and even the ever irritating Owen was treading carefully around him.

Owen may be a fool but he was a fool with a very strong sense of self-preservation.

Ianto moved towards Jack quietly, almost on tiptoes, a mug of steaming sweet-scented coffee held out like a peace offering to a savage lion—something not too far off the mark.

"Jack, coffee?"

Jack grunted and Ianto took his life in his hands and sat on the edge of the desk by his boss, placing the coffee by his elbow. He smoothed the crease in his trousers with steady hands, shoring up for what would likely be a difficult conversation.

"There's an increase in rift activity," he began unsurely.

Jack ignored him.

"A street in Tenby vanished for an hour and came back with no cats."

Silence.

"Completely cat free. The local Chinese is very unhappy."

Nothing.

Ianto took a deep breath. "The Weevils want Owen to be their king. They made him a paper crown and offered him a mate. He said she was brick ugly but I reminded him of that woman he dated last year… you remember Janice? But he said that he blamed that on poor disco lighting and he would never date anything that drooled more than his Uncle Fergus."

He could have sworn there was a flicker of amusement in Jack's eye at that.

"Uh… Tosh said she might know what happened to the Lost City of Atlantis. It was abducted by aliens. She doesn't have any proof yet, but she said if Big Brother can make a comeback then people will believe anything. I think I agree with her, apparently cut offs are back in this season."

There. There was definitely a twist of the lips.

"Oh and Gwen wants to know if we can have a clothing allowance since her pair of bootcut's were torn open by the Detracodian in the sewer."

"No."

Ianto grinned. "And he's back. Welcome home, Captain."

Jack swung his gaze up to the honey-eyed Welshman. "I didn't go anywhere."

"No?" Ianto sniffed. "My mistake. Drink your coffee."

He got up from the table and walked back to the kitchen, mission accomplished and knowing full well that Jack was staring at his ass as he walked away. The little swing to his hips was purely chance, of course.

Jack waited until Ianto was out of sight and then let his attention swing back to the spot where the big blue box had sat.

Six days.

Six days ago he had held Rose in his arms and laughed with the Doctor and pretended to believe that they weren't going to leave him behind again; even though he knew it was a lie.

Life, as he knew it, was full of both disappointments and resignation. He had known from the moment that the Doctor had blown back into his life and announced his intention of bringing Rose back, that he would, very soon, be out in the cold again. He took a few seconds to muse morosely on why he was always left behind by those two.

It wasn't Rose's fault; he could tell that she had wanted to speak to him about what had happened at Satellite Five all those years in the future, and he was more than willing to discuss and dissect it in true soap opera fashion. He wanted to know how she had done this to him and if there was any way to stop it from being permanent.

He had died from pretty much most things; shot, stabbed, electrocuted, drowned and even once run over by a lorry. He had never tried decapitation and that was only because he wasn't sure it would work. Imagine being only a head for the rest of your life! For one thing, it would definitely limit fashion choices.

Eternal life without the ones you loved by your side was no life at all. Eternal life with only the Doctor for company would result in one or both of them dying before their time. But Jack was also well aware that the Doctor wanted, for some reason, to keep Rose from him. Maybe he didn't want the 'innocent' young girl to know exactly what she had done to Jack, knowing that she couldn't handle the guilt.

And Rose would feel guilty, no matter her original intention.

Or maybe the Doctor's reluctance stemmed from something deeper, something more sinister-- or maybe it was just the sheer possessive obstinacy that seemed to permeate this version of the Doctor.

There was something different about this Doctor and it wasn't just the way he acted around Rose, like he couldn't bear to let her out of his sight.

It had grated Jack's professional and deeply ingrained sense of mystery and after the first day the Doctor and Rose had vanished, Jack had ordered his team to search for any video surveillance of the new Doctor from before.

There were a few captured fragments of grainy CCTV footage of the Doctor in a dressing gown shouting at the Prime Minister. There were more than a few scattered pieces of film from the L.I.N.D.A files and eight or nine tiny snippets from the cameras outside the Powell Estate.

The new Doctor had worn pin-striped suits and bounced on his heels. He ran his fingers through his hair and, if the London Torchwood archives could be trusted, ran through sentences at a million miles per hour. The new Doctor had seemed very different from the old one, right up until Rose's disappearance.

Things the Doctor had said whilst they were trying to get her back had slid and clicked in Jack's mind.

"_Fact of the matter, Captain, is that I've had enough of my own personal hell. I want Rose back and I'll do anything to get it."_

"_She could have died, melted from the brain inwards. The Vortex could have done anything and she didn't care. Then I changed into him and she still stayed with me, through it all. Through French tarts and cats, black holes and heartache and now she's lost. Lost in another universe where she didn't want to be and she's not staying there. I won't let her."_

Jack rubbed his chin as he thought over everything that he had learned.

His team mates probably thought that he was moody because he hadn't wanted to stay; that wasn't true. Jack loved his team and wasn't sure, if the Doctor asked, if he'd even want to leave.

Might be nice to be offered the option though.

His team probably thought that he was sulking because he'd been excluded from the Doctor/Rose soap opera and probable intense sex marathon. That also wasn't true, although, once again, it would have been nice to be asked.

No, he was staring at that self-same spot, wishing hard that the TARDIS would reappear because he was worried. No, scared.

He was scared for Rose because he had a sneaking suspicion that the Doctor was unhinged, and it happened the moment Rose had slipped away from him.

Jack sipped at the coffee and mentally blessed Ianto for knowing what he needed, often before he himself did. He was so fixated on the soothing blend that he thought he was imagining the sound at first.

A faint whoosh and grating, like an angry hippo with asthma.

But no, there, where it had stood before was the faint outline of the TARDIS, the blue box that had his heart racing despite his best efforts.

"Jack, they're back!" Gwen yelled as if he couldn't see that for himself.

"Thank god," Owen sneered, coming out from behind his work station. "One more day of the King of the mood swings and I was going to test him for PMS."

Tosh, off Ianto's look pinched Owen into silence as they waited for the dematerialisation to complete.

Jack lurched to his feet, rethought, and then slouched back in his chair placing his booted feet up on the desk; a study of nonchalance.

The TARDIS solidified and after a long moment the door opened and Rose Tyler bounced out searching for him.

Jack stayed still and brought his coffee cup to his lips, taking a long deliberate swallow.

"Jack!" Rose's bright eyes found him and she grinned brightly. He waved his cup in salutation and braced himself for the appearance of the Doctor.

Dressed in leather jacket and dark blue jumper, the Doctor shut the door firmly behind him, raked a hand through his hair and studied Jack.

"Miss us?"

Jack sipped his drink. "Oh, were you gone?"

Gwen exchanged glances with Owen and both of them slowly stepped back behind their work stations. Ianto and Tosh also suddenly found themselves very, very busy, taking note of the low, dangerous key of Jack's voice.

Rose and the Doctor made their way up to Jack's office and he stood up to face them, his hands in his pockets and all defences up.

"So, what was so damned important that you guys crept off in the middle of the night and took six days to get back, huh? I'm figuring you didn't go out for ice-cream."

"Six days?" Rose blinked and turned to punch the Doctor on the arm. "Six hours my arse! Can any Time Lord tell the difference between a watch and a flaming calendar?"

The Doctor grimaced. "Whoops."

Rose folded her arms in a huff. "Sorry Jack. The Doctor said we'd be back six hours later. Should have remembered his Lordship's time keeping was shite."

Jack relaxed minutely. So they hadn't intended to leave him for that long; at least that was something.

He leaned against the desk and let his gaze drift over Rose. She looked unharmed and was able to tease the Doctor. Maybe he had been too hasty with his conclusion that the Doctor was dangerous for her.

Maybe.

"So where were you?"

The Doctor leaned over and wrapped an arm around Rose, not liking the speculative look on Jack's face. He let his fingers trace her collar bone, his eyes firmly fixed on Jack with more than the slight hint of possessiveness.

"We were…busy."

Jack's eyebrow shot up at the sudden blush on Rose's face.

He took in the tousled hair, the delight dancing in her eyes and the way that their bodies seem to naturally turn to each other.

It suggested more than a passing familiarity with each other's bodies and had Jack grinning at the notion that the Unresolved Sexual Tension was very decidedly resolved.

"I see that. Rose Tyler you have that look, what do they call it in England? Shagged out?"

Rose gasped in mock affront. "Jack!"

"No, no," Jack laughed. "Gotta say, didn't think it'd happen for a while. I'm almost jealous that you managed to break into Time Lord pants."

"Oi!" the Doctor said with indignation. "You make me sound easy."

"No way," Rose denied. "Two years of waiting. Easy you ain't, mister."

"I dunno though," Jack teased, pleased at being included, "two years of foreplay doesn't sound too bad to me. Although I wish I'd seen the fireworks."

"Maybe next time," the Doctor said with tolerable sarcasm.

"Ooh, is that an offer?"

"Easy!" the Doctor said. "You never did buy me that drink."

"Boys, boys, boys!" Rose sighed. "Anyway, sorry for running away Jack."

Jack shrugged one shoulder. "From you guys, I'm kinda used to it."

The sharp retort took away the comfortable camaraderie and an uneasy silence fell on the trio.

Rose was the first to look away and made Jack feel like a jerk for upsetting her.

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. "You know, Jack, we spoke about—"

What they had talked about was lost as the Doctor's body was suddenly wracked by an unseen force and he dropped to his knees, holding his head.

"Doctor?"

"Doctor, are you all right?"

The Doctor could only just hear the concerned voices of Jack and Rose as he felt his internal barrier break just that little bit more; his inner prisoner sending all his force and energy into the assault.

A rush of heat engulfed his brain and he opened his mouth to scream, the breath snatched away before it could hit the air.

His reached up and grabbed his head, feeling the creeping fingers of the tenth Doctor forcing his personality in to him. A personality he neither wanted nor needed.

It was like liquid silver melting into his brain, coating his cells and twisting their use from one to another as the tenth incarnation tried to make his own mark on his body.

Memories of the bitter cold ice sheets and glacial beauty of Woman Wept drained away, the chill dissipating into heat as the tenth Doctor forced memories of the searing warmth of a Space station orbiting a black hole into its place.

The recollections of the Slitheen stench faded into insignificance as the heated breath of a werewolf pulsed against his senses.

His feelings of hatred towards the murderer Lady Cassandra bled into pity for her lost and alone in hospital.

The explosion of Time Vortex he had held in his body was rampaged by memories of Christmas with the Tyler's and burning up a sun to say goodbye.

He could feel parts of himself being stripped away, an aching, burning feeling in every single cell, coated in a scorching liquid of change.

He was being ripped apart at the seams, his body a playground for vengeance and his soul laid bare.

Being taken over poured agony into his pores and he strained against the invasion even as he knew it was futile.

His mouth opened by its own accord and he rasped. "H-help me, I'm trapped."

He slammed his mouth shut, ignoring the sharp tang of pain as he bit down too hard, his lip splitting and blood dripping down his chin.

His limbs locked and he fell, face first down on the carpet, his whole body writhing in exquisite pain.

He could hear Jack bellowing for Owen and knew Rose was by his side, holding his head and calling his name.

But all he cared about was the pain, the violation and suddenly… the blackness.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Rose had done some scary things in her time with the Doctor and even more whilst she was alone in Torchwood on Pete's World.

She had faced armies and stood toe to toe with alien invaders, demanding that they leave her planet or face her wrath. She had bragged and bluffed without any cards and even accepted that a normal life was no good for her. She had been nervous and tense, scared and frightened, but nothing, no alien invasion had ever prepared her for the deep gut-wrenching terror that sunk into her at the sight of the Doctor lying at her feet, writhing and moaning in pain.

She held his sweating head in her lap and frantically brushed hair back from his forehead, murmuring soothing phrases which meant nothing and calmed no one.

"Doctor?" she whispered. "Owen's gone to fetch the stretcher and he'll take you down to the medical facilities here. I know you're going to be okay. I know it but…I don't—" Rose rubbed at the tears streaking down her cheeks. "Is there anything I can do? Doctor? Doctor, please wake up. Please!"

She rocked him. "What's wrong?" she begged for some response from him.

Jack stood at the door, torn between picking the Time Lord up and carrying him to the infirmary himself and possibly causing some other damage. He had hit his head pretty hard when he fell.

He couldn't stand to see Rose so upset, her face contorted in fear and pleading. She looked up at Jack, mascara running in black rivulets down her red cheeks. "Jack, what's wrong with him?"

He opened his mouth and closed it again. There was nothing he could say to her to make this any better; he didn't _know_ what was wrong.

Owen and Ianto rushed into the room carrying the white stretcher and Jack hauled Rose away as they loaded the Doctor's prone body onto it. The medical facility was in the lower levels and the three men took care to be as smooth in transit as they could.

Rose followed with Gwen who had her arm wrapped firmly around the girl, using her police training to full effect with soothing comments and subtle strokes.

They laid the Doctor's body on the cold metal table and Rose sat on one of the seats by the bed.

The medical room was white and cold. Unbroken white stone walls and unwelcome sterile metal formed a streamlined cage around the perimeter, hard stone steps and beeping machinery being the only thing to break up the strong lines of the room.

The metal bed had seen more than its fair share of life-saving techniques. But also it's fair share of death. Rose imagined that she could see the life-blood of people coating the autopsy table in slick redness and she shivered slightly into Gwen's embrace.

The Doctor wasn't going to die. He wasn't.

"I need you all to step back," Owen said professionally and raised an eyebrow at the hovering Jack until the Captain slid to stand by Rose against the wall.

Owen Harper was a jerk. A compete egotistical, sarcastic, self-obsessed, ignorant bastard. He made you want to slap him just for saying hello.

But he was also a very, very good doctor.

Jack pulled Rose to him as they watched Owen work his magic. Owen called for Toshiko to help him pull off the Doctor's jacket and jumper and attaching leads and diagnostic material to the Doctor's prone body.

It wasn't right that the Doctor should lie so still. He was a bundle of energy, he was life personified. He didn't lie still—he couldn't even _sit _still.

He bounced and leaped and hopped. He ran.

The Doctor was incapable of being so… motionless.

"Right," Owen said as he ran an array of medical instruments over the Doctor that beeped. "What's different recently? Has he eaten something he shouldn't have? Drank something given to him by a stranger? Has he been complaining of headaches? Nausea?"

Rose rubbed her head.

"Has he gone anywhere new? Seen something? Injected something? Is he on medication? Allergies?"

"I don't know," Rose cried, her eyes stuck on his form. "I don't know anything!"

Owen turned to her, arrogance and professionalism warring. "Rose, I need to make sure I don't do anything to hurt him. Now, is there anything you can tell me?"

Rose thought hard. She was better than this. She didn't fall to pieces; she was head of Torchwood for God's sake. She could do this.

Focus.

"Aspirin!" Rose said firmly. "He's allergic to aspirin. And, um. He has two hearts. He can live with only one but two is better." She took a deep breath. "We didn't have breakfast this morning. Don't even know if he ate anything yesterday. Uh…" She scratched her head. "He went through the rift. There's like background radiation." She froze. "Oh my god, has he got radiation poisoning or something?"

Owen made a note. "I'll check. Anything else?"

"We've been…god everywhere! Went to Pluto and Venus. Did the Mini-mega market on F'harg. Slid over the Medusa Cascade and visited Clom. Saw the moon landing and ate with William the 1st. We went to the 17th century and met Guy Fawkes. We were in prison in the Tower of London for a bit. It wasn't exactly hygienic. Deva Loka… I was possessed. He went inside my head." Rose took a deep breath, ignoring the astonished looks of everyone else in the room. "We became lovers yesterday. He's been off since he came to get me. Staring off into space and that. He wears different clothes and he's been acting different to how he was. He said he missed me." Tears dripped off her nose. "God, what if something was wrong and he didn't tell me. What if he got sick trying to find me? Is it my fault?"

Owen didn't answer. "I'll check for radiation and gamma radiation. Normal diseases and the more exotic. Small pox, typhoid, the works. I'll check blood work and neurological responses."

"I'll check his telepathic field," Tosh added softly. "Maybe his receptors are just out of line. Easy fix." She started up the stairs, pausing to pat Rose's shoulder. "We will find out what's wrong. Owen's a good medic. He'll be okay."

Rose gave her a brief nod in thanks.

Gwen smiled and started up after Tosh. "I'll go and check the files; maybe we have some old medical files of the Doctor's on record. He did work with U., maybe we can find something there."

Jack gave Rose a big hug. "I'll get the hand. We can use it to compare normality scales." He left the room and Rose watched Owen for a long moment.

"I'll," Ianto paused looking around helplessly. "I'll…make coffee."

"Actually, Ianto. Its tea in a crisis," Owen called, not looking up from his work.

Ianto paused on the stairs. "Tea, yes, of course. I'll make tea."

"Biscuits would be nice," Owen added, "and cake."

Ianto paused again, his voice noticeably cooler. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, stop faffing about, this isn't a café."

Ianto mumbled under his breath and walked away.

The Doctor knew where he was even before consciousness beckoned him awake.

The mind of his future self had been his prison for so long that its very essence was burned into his soul and he could identify his surroundings without even opening his eyes.

His alter ego, his lesser self, had somehow managed to pull him back inside his head with a force that had rendered him unconscious.

It was a show of power that should have taken years to achieve. The Doctor hadn't realised how much ground he had allowed his other self to gain when he opened his mind to save Rose.

He had spent so long stuck inside this selfsame space tormented by what he could see happening outside that he hadn't realised what control it had taken to break himself free… or what it had cost him to hold his prisoner. The mental strain of keeping his hostage imprisoned, not allowing him to take total command over the body they shared had taken its toll and he was well aware that his mental reserves were alarmingly depleted.

This was alarmingly because he knew that he was going to have to fight. Fight for life, fight for the right to exist.

Fight for Rose.

There was a subtle shift in the resonances of the air signalling the approach of someone else into the room.

The Doctor lurched to his feet in a swift move and faced his opponent.

The other Doctor, his future self, lounged casually against the doorframe in his own signature move; a subtle but insidious taunt against their role reversal.

"Oops, did I pull too hard?" the pin-striped man said with a grin. "Sorry. _Well_, not really sorry." He pushed himself away from the frame and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Or surprised really. Subconsciously I must have wanted to hurt you." He grinned wider. "Imagine that."

"I s'pose you're pretty pleased with yourself," the Doctor snarled.

"Pleased?" the pin-striped man scratched the back of his head. "I suppose you could say pleased. Glad, content, happy, smug maybe even a bit satisfied but pleased?" A grin broke across his goofy features. "Yeah. I am."

"Oh, is it time for the "I'm so brilliant" ramble already?" the Doctor sneered. "Has anyone ever told you how annoying that is? No—let me guess—everyone bows to your superior knowledge, safe in the delusion that you actually know what you're talking about. Of course we both know the truth, don't we?"

"What truth?"

"You're talking bollocks. All that jiggery pokery and pseudo science blasting out at them hides the fact that you're making it up as you go along. Nice little façade which makes them think you're brilliant when you're just a scared little pretty boy out of his depth."

"Of course I could always be a bitter old veteran, hiding my lust for a young girl behind rudeness and a leather jacket, but that would just be petty." He rocked on his converse heels and sniffed smugly. "And I do happen to be brilliant, and foxy. Whereas you could open communications with Betelgeuse with those satellite dishes on your head."

The Doctor crossed his arms across his leather-clad chest. "Uh, who is the petty one?"

They stared at each other for a long moment before the captive sighed. "Look, I'm giving you a chance. One chance. Call this off. Because if you don't I'm going to stop you. I'll stop you because you're wrong. You shouldn't even be here. Your time has come and gone."

"It wasn't enough!" the harsh plains of his face were gripped with anger and desperation. "A year, two years with her, it wasn't enough!"

"What would be?" there was a hint of pity on the younger face. "A human's life is so short. But even eternity with Rose wouldn't be enough. I know that. But what your doing won't change the fact that one day she will be gone and we will have to go one without her."

"No," his hands clenched into fists so tight that the whites of his knuckles all but gleamed taut against his bones. "I won't let that happen. There are ways of extending a life. Of…making a person live on. You know there are."

"No. No. No." Alarm showed in the pin-striped man's face. "You're talking of dark ways. Twisting Rose into a creature of your own making to keep her with you. You can't. Please. Listen to yourself. That isn't love, that's obsession; an obsession that will make her hate you. Hear what you're saying. Would you hurt Rose just to keep her with you?"

The Doctor didn't even seem to hear him. He straightened and glared with hatred at his future self. "You have no idea of how I feel for Rose."

But he did. Oh, of course he did. How could he not.

The Doctor who had taken over knew what his previous incarnation had felt about Rose. He had felt that burning need to posses her and make her his own in every way. He had understood the passion that her every breath incited and the overwhelming urge to hold her and never let her go.

But he also recalled the destructive desires that swamped him whenever she was around. Scarred from the Time War and having all his race destroyed filled him with the craving to have her near at all times; to capture that spark of life and smother it for his own; to bind Rose to him in every way imaginable and to…imprison her within himself so that she would never leave.

Oh, he understood it well and had tried, once regenerated, to maintain some distance from the girl so that he didn't destroy her with his own inclinations.

But all of his work had backfired and the man who had been trapped within his mind had taken it one step further… into madness.

Right then and there he knew that there would be no capitulation from his jailor. There was no reasonableness left in him; this was going to be a fight to the death.

"I know why you called me now," the man in leather piped up suddenly, an evil grin on his face. "You didn't want me to sleep with Rose again, did you? Jealous?"

The Doctor's gut twisted because his big-eared enemy was right. Last night had been the pinnacle of this little nightmare. He had to watch as a man with his face and his body touched his Rose. He had to watch as someone else caressed her and made her moan. He had to watch as she responded so readily, believing it was him, reacting to the way that he was touching her.

He had had to watch as she whispered that she loved him—to another man.

His body had ached, his heart had broken and, in turn, he'd hated Rose for not knowing. He'd hated the other man for taking his place but, most of all, he'd hated himself for not being there, for holding back so many times and not taking the path he should have taken and been with Rose when he had the chance.

Jealous?

Oh, yes.

The other man knew and his face mocked. "Poor little Doctor, had to listen as Rose made those sweet sounds for me. How did it feel to be truly helpless?"

The Doctor felt his jaw clench at the taunts, his hearts pounding and nerve ends singing at him to just shut this man up.

"How did it feel to know that it was me who was holding her, sinking into her? Making her pant?"

His hands and jaw both clenched tightly, heat rising in his belly.

"Did you watch as she came, calling my name? Begging for me?"

He'd never hated anyone so much in all his existence.

The man in front of him gave a satisfied grin, full of malice and superiority. "Could you feel her nails in my back, her soft skin slick and wet?"

Fire and ice pooled his veins and throbbed a beat through to his brain. _Shut him up, shut him up._ There was wheel of fury and pain coiling inside. It wound tighter and tighter.

"Did you hear her scream; I. Love. You?"

It was enough.

He snapped and lunged at his tormenter, his hands pushing at the air between the two of them and forcing it with all his might to slam into the other man, knocking that smug smile off his face and throwing him into the air.

The ninth incarnation soared across the room and landed with a thud on the dirt floor.

He slowly looked up, animalistic and savage. "And so it ends."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Rose held onto her temper and fear as Owen Harper ran his tools over the comatose Doctor and made not-very-reassuring humming noises over the various beeps and bleeps that the metal box emitted.

He finally stepped back looking puzzled. "Well aside from being in as near to a coma as he can be, he seems to be in perfect health. No radiation emissions, no diseases, no faulty blood work…assuming that his DNA runs on similar lines to old Handy Andy here," Owen gestured to the bubbling fingers locked away in the jar. "The only thing remotely off is the neurological readings and, for a Time Lord, I have no idea if these are normal readings or not."

"I'd say not."

They all looked up as Toshiko appeared at the top of the stairs holding a sheaf of read-outs, her high heels clicking on the stone walkway. "I think you need to see this."

They all clustered around her work station, Rose elbowing her way to the front, not even apologising to Owen for batting him in the ribs.

"I took the neural readings that Owen took from the Doctor and placed them into my computer matrix program. It dissects the differential outputs from the electrical impulses in the brain; reads the synapses and gauges levels of activity."

"And?" Jack tried to hurry her.

"Brain activity over the past few minutes has increased by about 100% and not just that, his telepathic field is on constant flux—"

Jack shook his head. "No big—"

"—with itself!" Tosh finished, talking over Jack. "See here, there are two different layers of telepathic activity going on. Separate layers."

"Which means what?" Gwen asked, bewildered by the techno-jargon.

"Which means," Owen said wryly, "that the Doctor has someone else in his head."

"The Mara?" Rose's hand went to her mouth in dread. "It's still in him?"

"No," Tosh disagreed, bringing up another screen. "Look at the algorithms and the base wave level of the telepathic wave. It has too many analogous formations for it to be an external influence. I think what were looking at here is some kind of dual interdependent co-existing constructions which have come into conflict."

There was a moment of silence.

"Can we have that in dummy tea-boy speak?" Ianto piped up from the back.

"The brain patterns are so similar that it appears to be different aspects of the same persona," Tosh explained.

There was another moment of silence.

"I'll go and make tea," Ianto sighed and shuffled away.

"Wait, wait. You're saying that the two wave patterns are so alike that it's what…split personality?" Owen replied scathingly.

Tosh flushed under his look but Rose was staring at the wavy lines thoughtfully.

Jack touched her arm. "Rose?"

"He's been so different," Rose said quietly. "But so…the same. He wears the old style clothes. The clothes that the old him used to wear. He talks like he used to. He says 'fantastic'. How can he be two men? Jack?"

But Jack had no answers for her.

Rose turned to Tosh, taking a deep breath and taking the lead. "So what does all this mean, then? How can we get him back?"

"The separate waves need to be isolated and amalgamated or one needs to be eradicated. The brain, even a Time Lord brain, isn't equipped to function with two conflicting wave patterns. They keep trying to cancel each other out. If we can somehow disconnect the two from each other it might be possible to bring him to consciousness."

"But which one?" Owen pointed out. "Which wave is the proper base wave?"

"Both and neither." Tosh sighed staring at them. "One isn't right and one wrong. They are both his brain waves. Take your pick really."

Rose walked over to the banister overlooking the sleeping Doctor who was looking paler and less serene than when they left only moments ago. "How can we separate them?"

"With a telepathic field disruption," Jack said. "The only way I know to stop it is to share that telepathy. Go into the mind of the person who's in trouble and try to change it in there."

"Whoa, wait," Gwen gave a nervous laugh. "Is that even possible, Jack? To go into someone else's mind—like dream-walking?"

"Yes," Tosh seemed surprised that Gwen seemed to doubt it. "We have used a linkage system several times with alien possessions. It was necessary to infiltrate the mind to distinguish the real from the invading host. Standard really."

"So, one of us has to go deep sea diving in El Doctor's head looking for buried personalities?" Owen summed up neatly.

"In a nutshell." Tosh shrugged.

"But it's no picnic," Jack warned. "You see the best and worst that a person is; all their memories, all their neuroses. All the things you never needed to know about the people you know. And sometimes people are darker than they appear." He seemed to know this from experience, his voice dark and eyes darker.

Rose didn't take her eyes off the Doctor and spoke almost in a whisper but every single one of them heard her firm answer. "I'll do it."

Tosh looked at Jack for confirmation and then, at his nod, back to Rose. "Let's get you hooked up then."

Back inside the mind of the Doctor the two men stared each other down, malice and defiant hatred in each face.

The ninth Doctor had gotten to his feet after his pin-striped counterpart had thrown him to the floor and he stood now, tall and angry. He brushed off his leather jacket and gathered his energy. He would have to play this carefully; he was well aware that his reserves were low due to constant draining from his mental efforts at keeping his prisoner secure.

If it came down to a battle between them both of physical force he wasn't sure who would come out the victor. But…

A slow easy smile slid over his features as he planned his assault.

The man opposite grew uneasy, wondering if he hadn't set his own downfall in motion with the first strike. But no. This was not just for his body, not just for the right to take over his own life; but it was for Rose.

"Right, interesting fact," the man in leather said brightly, "Sartre—lovely man, a bit mad of course— said that hell was eternity with your friends. Of course, his mates were French so that explains that. Ge'k-in said that hell was other people. I disagree."

"You would."

"Hell is most definitely yourself. Or you, more to the point. Cuz you know, there's nothing worse than what you can put yourself through." He grinned. "Like this!"

With a quick push of his hands a burst of air beat into the pin-striped Doctor with the force of a freight train and he sailed back, falling, falling and smacking his head on the stone floor.

Wait? Stone?

_iHe looked up at the wall lamps and the flickering torches on either side of the huge wooden door he had fallen against. From behind the door he could hear growls and screams. People were in there with some sort of monster._

_He glanced up but there was no sign of the other man, the one who had thrown him here._

_The Doctor got to his feet and looked around, his mind absently noting that he recognized all of this. He had been here before._

_The long stone corridor was drafty and the icy wind that swept through the halls made him think of cold castles and windy moors._

_His mind raced, trying to locate himself, to give himself an advantage of knowledge but, before he could figure out where he was, there was another scream from behind the door._

_A familiar scream_

_It was Rose._

_Rose was in danger._

_He lunged against the wood but the medieval craftsman had made the door well. Solid oak withstood his pummelling fists and muffled his cries. He rattled the black metallic latch and yelled in frustration._

_As if by rote, his hand grabbed his sonic screwdriver and the latch burst open with a bang, the door sliding away from its frame decidedly._

_A scene of nauseating familiarity met his eyes._

_Rose was chained to a wall with several other women whilst a werewolf salivated and howled from its cage, the beast straining against the metal which was too soft to hold it._

"_Where the hell have you been?" Rose snapped, her voice trembling with fear as she incited the women to pull their chains away from the masonry._

_Again the Doctor found his eyes captivated by the deep muscle and hard lines of the creature, its perfect symmetry and savage beauty all but taking his breath away._

"_Oh that's beautiful!" he breathed and just like that the cage bars bent and snapped._

_Those chained beside Rose had finally managed to release their bonds and they scurried out of the room with Sir Robert leading the way._

"_Out, out, out, out, out!" the Doctor yelled urgently and pushed them out of the door._

_But his eyes couldn't stop staring as the creature rose majestically, its body glistening with power._

"_Come on!" Rose called and came back to him._

_The werewolf stood tall, free of the cage which had held it for so long. _

_Enraged, the monster threw the top of is cage across the room, narrowly missing the Doctor who was still enraptured. _

"_Doctor!" Rose screamed and he finally moved, grabbing her hand and heading to the door._

_But those few seconds had been seconds too many and Rose was yanked forcibly from his grasp._

_The Doctor spun to see the werewolf holding Rose like a rag doll and bending its muzzle to her soft throat, its teeth glinting in the moonlight._

_He took a stumbling step forward, his hand going up to ward off damage but it was too late._

_With a guttural roar the werewolf opened his maw wide and bit down._

_Crimson liquid splattered over the Doctor's face as the beast tore out her throat, slicing through flesh and bone like a Sunday roast. _

_An inarticulate cry of shock, rage and denial wrenched free from the Doctor's own throat as a gush of arterial fluid spewed forth from the dead body held high by the victorious werewolf. Clawed paws tightened around the limp body and sliced into her soft arms trailing lines of blood dripping to the floor._

_With a howl of triumph he dropped her battered and broken body to the floor and she hit the stone floor with a sick thud. The werewolf swiped its mighty claws down and shredded the torso, sending entrails flying and spreading the blood around like a child at bath time._

_And all the Doctor could do was watch; struck dumb and paralysed by horror as his Rose was brutally murdered in front of him._

_He hadn't been quick enough. He had allowed his own curiosity and innate belief in his own invulnerability to slow him down and Rose, precious Rose, had paid the price._

_She was gone and it was all his fault._

_Grief struck, despair and anguish taking a firm hold as he stared down at Rose's golden hair, liberally streaked with red liquid._

_As he fell to his knees all he could see was Rose's dead eyes staring accusingly at him. /i_

"A touch macabre, isn't it?"

He spun around to see the ninth Doctor leaning in the doorway.

"Torn apart by a werewolf, not a nice way to go." His eyes flickered from the now frozen scene to the grieving Doctor. "You just weren't quick enough."

"I was!" spat the Doctor, his voice hoarse. "I saved her."

The man in leather sniffed. "Luck. If Rose hadn't pulled you away when she did, she'd be dead. This is what would have happened in ten seconds. You would have killed her. Typical."

"Typical?" the Doctor clambered to his feet snarling like the wolf behind him. "This is barbaric."

"This is justice," contradicted the man in leather. "You put her in this situation, this is your fault." He grinned at his adversary's weakness. "Take it like a man."

With a burst of pure fury the Doctor rushed forward and pulled back his fist, slamming it with satisfying force into the ninth Doctor's face.

With a crunch and a snap, his head flew back, the impact making him stumble for a second.

But it was long enough for the Doctor to gather his wits. "You want to assign blame? Then fine, here's one I prepared earlier!"

He swung his arm and dealt an upper cut which sent the other man sprawling to the floor—and into his own nightmare.

_iThe Doctor stared around him taking in his surroundings with his usual sombre reflection. He tucked his hands into his leather pockets with an attempt at casual disinterest but it was hard._

_The Rose that stood across the other side of the wooden table was young. So very young with those baggy jeans and the hoody that she had loved to wear when he first met her._

_She was gnawing on her lower lip and smiled softly at him._

"_If we could just get out of here..." she said wistfully and the Doctor found his mouth moving._

"_There's a way out."_

_Rose frowned incredulously. "What?"_

"_There's always been a way out."_

"_Then why don't we use it?" Rose asked with a hint of curiosity in her voice. But the Doctor just stepped towards that long oak table, suddenly remembering where he was and what he was doing._

_He looked down at Rose's mobile hooked up to the speaker system on the table of 10 Downing Street._

_So this was what his other self had thrown at him? This moment, out of everything._

_He felt a smug smirk edge around his features even as he spoke into the mobile._

"_Because I can't guarantee your daughter will be safe."_

_Jackie's tinny voice came over the line. "Don't you dare. Whatever it is, don't you dare."_

_Even Jackie's voice managed to irritate him. Issuing orders like she was the one in charge. He answered condescendingly. "That's the thing, if I don't dare, everyone dies."_

"_Do it."_

_Rose's quiet declaration still had the ability to floor him and he found himself repeating his own words without hesitation. "You don't even know what it is, you'd just let me?"_

"_Yeah."_

_Rose simply stared at him, her eyes full of a trust that made his hearts ache. This moment, this was when he first fell for her. _

_He heard Jackie bleat and plead, arguing that Rose was just a kid and that old swell of guilt surged through his belly._

"_Do you think I don't know that? Because this is my life, Jackie, it's not fun, it's not smart, it's just standing up and making a decision because nobody else will."_

_It was always the same thing. People called him a hero, people called him a villain because he did the things that no one else would._

"_Then what're you waiting for?"_

_Except his Rose. _

"_I could save the world but lose you."_

_Once he had cared. Once he had aimed a bomb at Rose to save the world._

_Now?_

_Now he wasn't so sure. Rose meant more to him than this dinky little Class 3 planet._

"_Except it's not your decision, Doctor. It's mine."_

_The Doctor had been so intent on looking at Rose and remembering every second of their life together that he had forgotten there was someone else in this room._

"_Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North. The only elected representative in this room, chosen by the people, for the people, and on behalf of the people I command you. Do it."_

_And he did. He ordered Mickey to hack into the Royal Navy and select the correct codes. He directed him to a missile and took a deep breath, knowing what would happen next._

"_Mickey the Idiot. The world is in your hands. Fire."_

_He turned away from the drama unfolding on the other end of the line and smiled at Rose, waiting for her to make her alternate plans._

"_How solid are these?" Harriet Jones asked tapping on the steel shutters._

"_Not solid enough, built for short range attack, nothing this big." He answered quickly, eyes not on her at all._

_And right on time Rose stepped up. "Alright. Now I'm making the decision. I'm not gonna die, we're gonna ride this one out." She opened the cupboard door. "It's like what they say about earthquakes, you can survive 'em by standing under a doorframe. Now this cupboard's small so it's strong. Come and help me! Come on!"_

_They all slid into the cupboard, the Doctor shouting some last minute instructions at Mickey from the safety of the small cubby hole._

_They crouched into the corner and grasped hands, the Doctor in the middle._

"_Nice knowing you both." Harriet Jones said with her nervous smile in place. "Hannibal!"_

_Like a preset password the whole place exploded on cue._

_Inside the small space they still felt the heat of the blast rocking the house. Harriet fell forward, her body slamming into the Doctor as the cupboard shook hard, coming lose from its moorings. _

_Rose gasped hard as the Doctor's body knocked into hers and they all flipped head over heels, their world turning over in confusion and panic._

_The Doctor felt an elbow in his ear and a knee in his spine as they collided and bumped against each other, buffeted by the energy of the explosion._

_He could hear the frightened breathing of Harriet and the snap of objects overhead as the rocking caused the objects in the cupboard to dash against the sides of the box._

_The huge whoomph of fire outside masked all sound for a long moment and then all fell silent._

_Harriet groaned and pushed herself upright. "Is it over?" she gasped._

"_Yeah," the Doctor nodded opening his own eyes and wiping a hand over his face. It was wet._

_He frowned at it and squinted hard in the dim light and bright spots colouring his vision._

"_Oh my God!"_

_He spun at Harriet's horrified exclamation and the bottom fell out of his world._

_One thing he had never thought about was the fact that they had sheltered in a coat cupboard. _

_A cupboard with a rod to hang clothes from._

_A rod which had snapped and protruded rudely from the belly of Rose Tyler._

"_No!" his voice was strangled as he leaned forwards touching her face to see if there was any response._

_His fingertips left streaks of red against her pale cheeks and he snatched his hands away before he could mar her perfection any longer._

_He had been touching her stomach, trying to hold her close and she hadn't been able to move as the rod slid into her stomach. His hands were slickly coated with her blood._

_He had held her down as she died._

_Bile rose in his throat and he gagged, turning his head away from the sight of her lifeless body._

"_I'm so sorry," Harriet murmured reaching over to close Rose's eyes. "She was so brave."_

_He couldn't answer. He had held her down as she died._

_He held her down._

_It was his fault._

_Not content to aim a bomb at her he had then forced a spike through her chest._

_He had killed her._

_His hands shook and the world swam in front of him./i_

"Not as fun from the other side is it?"

His head snapped up as converse trainers came into view and the scene faded, the acrid smell of burning timber vanishing as if it was never there.

With an inarticulate roar of rage he hurled himself at his pin-striped counterpart and wrapped his fingers around his throat, squeezing hard.

The Doctor who hadn't been in the explosion grunted and grabbed his attacker's wrists, digging his nails into the flesh there but anger made the ninth Doctor strong.

He kneed his enemy in the side and the pin-striped man wheezed as the breath fled his body.

With a feral snarl the leather-clad Doctor punched him in the stomach and gave him a head butt.

The crack of skull on skull ricocheted and they both staggered back drunkenly.

The pin-striped Doctor held his aching ribs and glared. "Pacifist!"

"Time War," shot back the ninth Doctor with just as much ire. He tried to smack his foe again but the Doctor dodged out of the way nimbly, his wiry frame an advantage.

The Doctor knew that he needed to regain his footing and he searched his mind for something that would hurt and disorientate his other self.

He found it quickly and sneered. "See, you don't mind hurting Rose when it suits you."

"You held her down," the man shot back, "you aimed a bomb at her, lets not forget that. And, oh yeah, you trapped her with a Dalek. I think those outweigh a possible time lapse between me and a werewolf."

"Oh, but there are so many other ways to hurt." With those sinister words the jailer stood straight and, focussing his power, he grabbed the Doctor by the lapels and shoved him into another nightmare.

_iThe Doctor stared up at the night sky, the superior wine turning to dust and ash in his mouth. He was trapped here, on the slow path and Rose was millions of years and billions of miles away. Was she thinking about him staring at the same stars? Was she waiting for him?_

_Reinette Poisson smiled softly at him. "It's a pity," she said, "I think I would've enjoyed the slow path."_

_He sighed heavily. "Well, I'm not going anywhere."_

"_Oh, aren't you?" She took him by the hand and led him along the sumptuous passages and the luxurious corridors until they came to her bedroom._

_He stared at the bed with no little apprehension and wondered exactly how they punished people who turned down the Mistress of the King._

_But Reinette wasn't even looking there. She was staring at the fireplace._

"_It's not a copy. It's the original. I had it moved here and was exact in every detail."_

"_The Fireplace." He walked slowly towards it. "The fireplace from your bedroom. When did you do this?"_

_But he knew. He remembered this from before. He recalled the elation that had pushed aside the despair and resignation when he had thought he was stuck on the slow path for years._

_He remembered that his first thought had been Rose. Rose left alone on that ship as he'd rode away on a horse to save the day._

_He'd hoped she'd understood._

_He prayed that she'd forgive him and he couldn't imagine her not._

_He almost didn't hear Reinette's teasing reply._

"…_will it work?"_

"_You broke the bond with the ship when you moved it. Which means it was off-line when the mirror broke. That's what saved it. But..." he moved closer to the fireplace examining it, "the link is basically physical, and it's still physically here. Which might just mean, if I'm lucky... if I'm very, very, very, very, very, very lucky..." he beamed brightly, knowing exactly where to press and found what he was looking for. "Loose connection! Need to get a man in!"_

_He stood on the right step and banged the mantelpiece knowing what expression Reinette would have but unable to stop staring at her beautiful face._

_She really had been so very lovely. _

_Is that what his other self had meant? The hurt of Madam De Pompadour dying? It was history, he couldn't change that._

_He didn't want to change that._

_He would go back to Rose and Madam would die._

"_Wish me luck!" he chortled falsely and his face fell on cue at her refusal._

_He crouched down at the other end of the fireplace and told her to pack her bag, knowing that it would be too late._

_He took a deep breath and hurtled off to find Rose._

"_Rose!" he called as he raced through the space ship, dodging cables and broken equipment._

_He heard the echo of voices and sped up, imagining Rose's bright face as he showed up, seeing her eyes light up and feeling her arms around him._

_And there she was. Rose was standing there, delight etched onto every inch of her face and she stepped forward, throwing her arms around him in a hug so tight he could feel her ribs creak._

"_You came back!" she whispered in his ear and he sighed into her shoulder, feeling like the first time he had held her all over again._

"_How long did you wait?" he asked, pulling back._

"_Five and a half hours." There was accusation in her voice under the pleasure and he wondered if it had always been there or if it was an addition placed there by his tormenter._

"_Right, always wait five and a half hours." He reached over to hug Mickey, changed his mind and grabbed his hand in a quick shake instead. _

"_Where've you been?" Rose was still standing there, her enthusiasm for his return fading slightly but he was too preoccupied. _

"_Explain later. Into the TARDIS, be with you in a sec." He heard Mickey scramble to the TARDIS, eager to get away from the space station and he couldn't blame him. _

_Quite a trial for the boy's first trip out._

_He bent at the fireplace and called for Reinette, knowing what he would discover._

_His next few moments played out just as remembered and when he wandered back into the TARDIS sad, but secretly relieved, he could feel the parchment letter over one of his hearts tucked away where it would be forgotten._

_Rose was standing by just where he remembered…but Mickey was nowhere in sight._

"_Doctor," she took a deep breath. "You were calling for Reinette. Did you…was she…gonna come with us?"_

"_Yeah," he said sadly. "But the time windows were still out of sync with our own reality. She was dead. I got there too late."_

_There was a brief pause and he looked up. This was usually Rose's cue to come over and hug him, to make him feel better._

_Why wasn't she moving?_

"_Rose?"_

"_I'm not good at history," she blurted abruptly. "But I reckon I'd remember something like the Mistress of a King going missing. Kidnapped by aliens or whatever. She wasn't."_

"_No," he frowned. "I told you, she died."_

"_Yeah, but if she hadn't. If she'd been alive when you got back, you'd've brought her with us. Right?"_

_He wanted comfort, dammit. Not questions._

"_What's your point?" he said sharply._

"_I'm a stupid ape," Rose answered just as sharply, "but even I know that taking away someone like her is messin' with history. When my dad…when I stopped him dying you told me that one person's life being changed, whether it's the most ordinary man or the uncrowned Queen of France. Changing that is dangerous."_

"_I know what I'm doing," he said defensively, knowing that she was right but hating to admit it._

"_So it's okay to mess with history when it suits you?" Rose's voice was quiet now and he pointedly ignored her. _

"_I wasn't gonna mention this," she added after a few minutes. "I was gonna say nothing and just let it go. But I can't. Doctor…I wanna go home."_

_Both his hearts clenched and he spun on his converses to gape at her. "What?"_

_She steeled herself and swallowed hard. "Home. I don't wanna travel with you anymore. I can't. It's not just… I can't."_

"_Why?" he hated the plaintive note in his voice and narrowed his eyes. "Because I wanted her to come with us?"_

"_Because you'd screw up history for nothing. Because you don't seem to give a shit that you left me and Mickey alone on a space station five million years in the future with remnants of Clockwork monsters and no way of getting back. Because you can't even see what kind of damage you've done. Because you lied."_

_He slammed his hands on the console, ice in his belly and a hole where his heart was. "I don't lie. I never lie, Rose Tyler!"_

_The anger and hurt in Rose's eyes floored him. _

"_You said I wasn't the latest in a long line. You said you weren't gonna leave me behind. Yesterday!" She shouted it at him. "Yesterday you stood there and practically said that you loved me. You said I could stay with you for the rest of my life. Twenty four hours later you dump me on a fucking space station with Mickey and take off with a blonde Frenchwoman. I'm not Sarah Jane and I won't always wait five and half hours while you go off with someone else. I won't waste my lifetime holding out for someone who lies to my face. Or who breaks my heart and doesn't even care. You've hurt me." Tears welled up in her eyes and she brushed them away. "God, you hurt. Take me home, Doctor."_

_She turned on her heel and his hearts broke. _

_He had never felt so bad. She was right, he had done that; he had walked away after telling her hours before that he would never leave her._

_He had been prepared to change history, to make the whole world different to keep a woman by his side who meant nothing to him._

_How could he have done that to Rose? _

_She couldn't leave. He had to make her stay. _

_He threw everything he had into his last rejoinder. "You said I lied, Rose. What about you? You wanted to stay with me so badly you swallowed the Time Vortex. Does that mean nothing?"_

_She paused in the doorway and half-turned to face him, tears spilling down her cheeks, twisting the knife in further. "It meant something to him. He came back for me. He loved me and I knew it. I would have died for him, would've done anything. I'd stay with him. If you were still him…but you're not. You…you're too different. You're not my Doctor."_

_There was nothing he could say. He wanted to cry, to scream, to get on his knees and beg her to stay with every fibre of his being. He knew he would offer her everything, anything if only she would come back. If only she would love him again._

_She made him whole, how would he go on without her to hold his hand, to hold him back or just hold him._

_But it was too late. He had seen the desolation and despair in her face._

_He had seen the way he had hardened her and hurt her and he knew that there was nothing that he could offer that would ever assuage that._

_He had broken Rose Tyler and in doing that, had broken himself. /i_

The man in leather watched with hard eyes as his older self sobbed on the floor, his hand reaching up to grip the phantom image of Rose as she walked away, fading into darkness.

He could feel the desolation that swamped his other incarnation and had to resist the urge to soften.

There was more at stake here than hurt feelings.

"She was right."

His words had the impact of a bullet as the man in stripes shot to his feet, fury displayed over every inch of his angular face.

"You go too far! Rose wouldn't just walk away from me. She never asked to go home."

"Would you have let her?"

"I'm not the one who has incarceration issues. You're just pathetic. Inferences on human behaviour aren't your strong point. Rose was bigger than that. She knew that what I felt for Madam De Pompadour could never even touch what I felt for Rose. She knew it."

"Did she?" a mocking tone filled that northern accent and he stared at the man he had been.

"What happened to you? What made you so bitter? Where did all this come from? Doctor?"

Anger flared on a harsh face. "From you, all right? From watching her fall for you and you push her away. You didn't deserve her; you didn't deserve any of it. Oh no. After everything I did for her, you just threw it back in my face!"

"Everything you did?" the man in pin-striped scoffed. "Everything you did to her, you mean."

"And things I'm going to do?" the ninth Doctor stared coldly at his enemy and the older man felt fear for Rose.

"Stop it, just stop it! We can do this somewhere else; we can take this far away. Not here. We can fight each other but not around Rose. She is going to end up a casualty."

"I wasn't the one who allowed a piece of skin to possess her."

"No, you almost allowed that piece of skin to fry her alive." The tenth Doctor smirked. "Rose-ka-bab. Was that one of the things you did for her? Oh, wait, then again there was the Gelth. Would you have allowed them to possess her to keep her close?"

"Krillitane," shot back the man in leather.

Not to be outdone, another failing was thrown in his face. "Justicia."

"Cybermen."

"Slitheen."

"Face sucking aliens!"

"Reapers."

"Domemen from Atalantagh."

"Chula warriors."

"Hell hounds."

"Ghosts!"

"Qwarvies."

"The Beast!"

"Daleks!"

"Daleks!" They screamed simultaneously.

"You trapped her in with one!"

"You allowed them to pull her into the void. It was blind luck that Pete came when he did. And then you didn't even bother to try to get her back. You don't deserve her."

He slammed the thinner man against a wall and hoisted him high above his head, spittle edging from the corner of his mouth.

The tenth Doctor, pinned against the wall, tried to push his psychotic self away but he was tired. The mental effort of applying the visions, making them real and forcing the memories to react the best way to torment his other self had taken their toll. Then there was the emotional effect his own memories had on him as well as the psychical ones. He was battered, he was pulsing with pain both inside and out and he could only wonder if he had another battle left in him.

The man in leather seemed to sense that and tightened his fingers, victory dancing around the edge of his smirk.

But all was not lost.

The wiry Doctor jabbed his thumbs into his counterparts' eyes and, being summarily dropped, he gave a vicious sideways swipe, knocking the Doctor's feet out from under him.

The broad man slammed into the floor in a heap of leather and anger. He did his best to get to his feet quickly but his knees were trembling with the effort.

He also knew that there was not much fight left in him.

This had to end soon.

Both men gritted their teeth, jaw muscles clenched tightly.

Viciously, relentlessly they exchanged punches, kicks, elbows and backhands, drawing blood and relying on physical strength to hold their opponent back while they gathered internal reserves.

It was time for their last mental assault and they attacked simultaneously

_i"Before I go, I just want to tell you that you were fantastic."_

"_You wither and die."_

"_Stupid ape!"_

"_She wanted to stay on the station, Doctor. We had to drug her or she'd be dead in that black hole. Waiting for you."_

"_She's in cell 42, has been for three weeks. She's waiting for someone to save her, some Doctor."_

_A beach, abandoned but for a crying girl._

"_Rose Tyler, I—" /i_

Blinded by pain, dazed with sorrow, the tenth Doctor did the only thing he could.

Slamming a right hook into the leather man's jaw, sending him reeling into the wall, he wiped blood from his mouth with one hand and used every last morsel of his strength to push out his very worst nightmare.

_iHeavy mortar fire rang through the air deafening in its volume. Screams could barely be heard through the noise as the whole city shook to it foundations._

_Buildings were finally giving up any pretence of being solid and those running were aware that they'd as likely be crushed by falling walls as they would be shot by either army; the armies who were currently advancing on the city within the city. _

_This was the supposed safe haven that had withstood so much. It had been the hallowed ground of those who thought themselves so superior and now were reaping the reward of such arrogance._

_A solitary man pushed his way through the screaming hordes, brandishing his rifle high to persuade them to move faster. His curly dark hair was liberally sprinkled with both dust and ash and matted in a mixture of sweat and blood. His once handsome face was scarred almost beyond recognition. One long ragged scar, older than the rest, running almost diagonally over his face, dividing his eyes away from his cheeks was almost faded save for a few nicks and bruises. The rest of the scars were fresher and seeping dangerously down his cheeks making him more fearsome than he already was. He slammed his way through a crumbling set of double doors, gasping for breath as he clutched the wound on his left side. _

_Inside the main building he glanced up at the fragile infrastructure, knowing full well that it was only just still standing. _

_The beautiful citadel, now in ruins. His home, on the brink of destruction_

_Had he known of its imminent demise, would he have come back more often? Even to a place he knew he was unwelcome?_

_It was too late to know for sure._

_He gritted his teeth and searched the chaos for those he cared for, hoping that they had had the good sense to get out before their enemies arrived._

_He pushed himself forward and yanked himself onto the stage to get their attention._

"_They've breached the outer walls!" yelled the Doctor over the screech of falling bombs. _

"_Down!"_

_Everyone in the halls ducked as the walls shuddered and dust rained down on them. _

_Another explosion sounded nearby and the very foundations trembled._

"_How did it come to this?" the Chancellor muttered, his aged voice plaintive and pathetic. _

"_With all due respect," the Doctor spat, compassion burned away by the fall of Arcadia. "It's your own fault for not dealing with the bloody Daleks when we had a chance!"_

_The Chancellor gave him a woeful glare before looking up quickly._

_The whistle of a bomb dropping was their only clue to the danger as they both hit the deck, the building quaking around them. The ceiling gave way and plaster poured down, bricks shifted and beams snapped. Screams came from down the hallway and he tightened his grip on his gun; his hated concession to the war, as the dust reigned down on him and the building continued to crack and shudder._

_Explosions sounded close and he wrenched himself to his feet._

"_We have to abandon Gallifrey, sir, we—"_

_He froze as he saw the long beam protruding from the chest of the Chancellor, blood slipping from his mouth._

"_Doc-tor!" the old man breathed._

"_I'm here," he sank to his knees. "I'll get you out; you can regenerate in the TARDIS."_

"_No," coughed the dying man. "I have no lives left."_

_This blow would have felled the Doctor had he not heard the ominous screech of fire from a Dalek gun piercing the silence._

_It was close. It was too close._

_He could hear the echoes of "Exterminate" and knew that the Daleks had finally taken the Capitol. In moments they would be here, inside the Panopticon and all would be lost._

_His robes were grabbed by the Chancellor and he was pulled weakly to within whispering distance._

"_Child of the Loom, you must do this. You must end this. We were weak to allow them this far. Abuse of power is j-just as damaging as apathy. Our time is gone. The Time Lords will be—no more. Take the final steps." He pressed something into the Doctor's hands._

_He stared at it with dawning horror._

"_No. No. NO! I can't do this. I won't. You can't make me." His words were childish and torn from his very soul._

_Blood began to pool around the Chancellor's body as he gasped for air. "You have no c-c-choice. The fate of the u-niverse lies with y-ou. Man who heals; kill us all."_

_And in his final breath he condemned the Doctor._

_The man called Destroyer of Worlds bypassed the dying and the dead, not seeing anything but the blue of safety, the edge of his own life and the tears that blurred his vision._

_This was it._

_This was the end of it all and it was fault of the Dalek race._

_As if conjured by the thought there was a shudder of gunfire behind him and he found himself dodging the laser ray of the Dalek forces. The stucco rhythm echoed through the abandoned city and he pushed himself to run faster, to save them all by…_

_He cut off the thought as he saw the miraculous blue box and made a mad dash for its hallowed halls._

_A ricocheted ray caught a mighty sculpture and shattered it, a long shard of glass catching him in the leg and he went down cursing._

_He crawled, pulling himself by his nails along the floor those last vital inches to the TARDIS._

_He slammed inside the TARDIS he had stolen in innocence so many decades ago and set the controls without thinking, trying to keep away any thought to the devastation that would be caused by his actions. _

_Ignoring the pain in his bleeding leg he grabbed the eye of harmony and inserted it into its place in the console._

_With a flick and a whir he sent the machine spiralling out of the danger zone and into the fringes of the battle ridden sky._

_Dalek forces swamped the Time Lord ships, flitting in and out of existence, murdering each other like chattel. It was a slaughter and there was only one way to end it._

_The eye of harmony would send explosions through the matrix; it would send ripples of transdimensional energy through all universes, all alternates and all realities. It would eradicate and dissipate and realign time. It would devastate the higher life forms, send time spiralling out of control and lock the war for all eternity. _

_It would segment this area of time and tie it down so that it could never be replaced, never be replicated and never be released. It would burn through the stars and take out the warring factions. _

_Death. Devastation. Armageddon. _

_Genocide twice over._

_It was the only way to stop the Daleks, halt their inexhaustible quest for power and save the universe. It would kill them, annihilate all of them._

_Decimate them all._

_It was the only way._

_The only way._

_But he faltered._

_His hand couldn't make itself take those final steps. He couldn't twist the dial. He couldn't do it._

_He couldn't become that man. He couldn't become a murderer any more than he already was._

_His hands shook and tears streamed down his face._

_He couldn't do it._

_But he knew someone who could._

_He closed his eyes and allowed his nature to take its course._

_White hot light filled him, engulfed every molecule and cell, ripping through him and changing him._

_It surged through his veins and poured molten lava into his body, contorting and tearing a hole in his psyche._

_The process killed him. It annihilated every trace of who he was within an instant, and rebuilt him as needed._

_A warrior. _

_A murderer._

_The oncoming Storm._

_The lonely god._

_A cold shell of a man with blue eyes, a harsh face and no mercy, who stood in his former self's place and pressed the button._

_The universe exploded./i_


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Travelling from Torchwood's not-exactly-state-of-the-art medical facility to the insides of someone's subconscious took some getting used to. The bright lights of the Hub were immediately dimmed into darkness and Rose wondered for a moment if she'd just gone blind. The equipment that Owen had hooked her up to hadn't exactly filled her with confidence; it looked more like a medieval torture device than a futuristic adaptation of a virtual reality machine.

The sensation of travelling from one plane to the other also wasn't something that she would recommend. Rose Tyler stood in the darkness trying to will her small breakfast to stay in place and not redecorate the Doctor's brain with scrambled egg.

It was while she was attempting to control her amazing gastric pyrotechnics that she heard the low grunts and muted thumps of flesh on flesh that always signified a fist fight.

She stood upright with a frown and made her way towards the noise in the time honoured way of meddlers and adventurers everywhere.

What she saw made her stop in amazement.

Her two Doctors were in a small round dark room. And, if her vision could be believed, they were actively trying to kill each other.

Her first Doctor, the man with big ears and a masochistic side to match his leather jacket, lay on the floor one arm reaching up to fend off her other Doctor, a man in pin-striped—very bedraggled—suit and tie, his converse planted very firmly in the other man's stomach.

As she watched, open-mouthed in horror, the man in leather grabbed hold of the loose tie of his future self and brought his head down sharply, head-butting the latest model and sending him staggering back.

It was obvious to even the most untrained eye that the two men had been fighting for some time; their clothes were torn and blood trailed from the numerous cuts and bruises littering their bodies. Their punches were weak and seemed to take far more energy than would normally have been required. In fact their whole demeanour bespoke tiredness and the very end of their strength.

Rose wondered exactly how long they had been at this and, more importantly, why they suddenly found the need to check what colour each other's insides were.

As she watched, her first Doctor swept his foot around and caught the other man's knees, knocking him to the floor with a hard slap.

"Stop it!" She screamed and both heads whipped around to her before they faced each other with intense hatred.

"This your revenge?" her first Doctor spat, kicking his pin-striped self in the ribs.

Clutching his chest and gasping, the other man frowned. "No, I thought this was one of yours."

Their childish behaviour seemed to channel her inner Jackie and Rose stormed forwards. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she shouted, hands on hips and head swimming. "But if you don't knock it off, I'm gonna join in."

The two men seemed to regard her with confusion and then dawning realisation.

"Rose!" breathed her current Doctor wonderment in his voice.

"Yeah." She snapped. "Wanna tell me what the hell is going on?"

He shakily got to his feet and stumbled over to her, hand firmly clasped to his aching side. He reached up and placed a trembling hand on her cheek.

"Rose," he said again, so softly. "Is it really you?"

She frowned at his hesitant yet tender manner. "Were you expecting someone else?"

"How?"

"You passed out which, thanks for scaring ten years off me, yeah. Anyway Tosh said that there was too much brain activity and Jack had this telepathic disrupter…thing which allowed me to come inside your head with you."

"My clever little ape," murmured the man in leather from the floor.

Rose was about to reply to that when her second Doctor suddenly wrapped his arms around her in a hug so strong she could hardly breathe.

"Whoa, what's this in aid of?" she half-laughed. "It's not like you didn't see me, like, an hour ago."

"I've not," he whispered into her hair. "I've not seen you for months."

Rose pushed away slightly. "Does time pass differently in your head?" She paused. "I think that's possibly one of the weirdest things I've ever said."

The Doctor beamed proudly at her logical reasoning but it faded quickly. "No Rose, I've not seen you since Bad Wolf Bay."

"Don't be daft," she protested. "What about the Tower of London and Deva Loka and all that. You're saying that wasn't you?"

His eyes were serious. "No."

It took Rose a moment to figure that out. She had just spent months with the Doctor, but if it wasn't this Doctor then…

"Then who—" Her eyes drifted past him to land on her first Doctor who stood slightly to one side, a look of defiant shame on his face.

The leather jacket, brushed with dust and ragged around the edges caught her eye. The Doctor had gone back to wearing his old clothes. He'd spoken with a northern accent and he'd been more… less like himself and more like the man he'd used to be.

Was it possible? Had the new Doctor been replaced by his older self?

Suddenly so many things made sense and Rose couldn't believe that she hadn't seen it before, couldn't believe that she'd allowed herself to brush her suspicions aside.

"You?" she said quietly to her first Doctor.

"I told you my regeneration went a bit…wrong," the man in pin-stripes interjected before his other self could speak. "I thought that it was something to do with swallowing the whole Time Vortex but it wasn't. Something was holding on, trying to drag me back. It was him."

Rose's eyes hadn't left the other man but she heard every single word.

"A piece of him clung on to life and stayed inside my head, waiting. When I lost you…" he swallowed hard, hand stroking her hair, "…he took over and kept me locked inside my own head. I've been trapped this whole time, Rose. Trapped and unable to get to you."

He had an edge to his voice that Rose hadn't heard in a while, both petulant and coaxing, like when he wanted her to make her mind up about something and she was taking too long. But Rose didn't really know what to think right now, much less try to fathom what the Doctor wanted her to think

Rose stared hard at the ninth incarnation, the first man she had ever really loved. "Is that true?"

He lifted his head. "Yes."

"Why?" Rose all but whispered.

"For you," his voice was quiet but sure. "I stuck around inside pretty boy's head because I needed to be sure that he was taking care of you. He wasn't and when he let you get trapped on that other world, I knew I needed to do something. He wasn't even going to try to get you back, Rose."

"I WAS!" exploded the Doctor. "You didn't give me a chance to find some way."

The man with blue eyes scoffed. "Oh, yeah. When was that then? When Rose made her own way back? When you asked UNIT to build you a ruddy dimension canon? Or How about when you'd finished putting red-heads back at their weddings and slaughtering baby spiders?"

Rose put her hand up. "Confused."

"I had a…minor incident with a Racnoss which sort of tied me up a bit," her Doctor said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "Just a bit, I mean when a red-headed temper tantrum just orbs into the TARDIS and say's you've kidnapped her, your priorities do get a bit skewed, which reminds me. Do grooms usually try to get the bride eaten before the honeymoon or was that just Donna? And what is the latest new flavour of Pringle?"

Rose gaped.

The Doctor in leather rubbed his eyes and sighed. "See what I've had to put up with, Rose? Some pretty idiot with ADHD trying to be me."

The tenth Doctor shrugged sheepishly.

"But I don't get it," Rose said to the ninth Doctor. "All this time, you've been him. Why didn't you say anything?"

The taciturn man stuck his hands in his pockets and looked away. But Rose was thinking back to some of the things he had said and put two and two together.

"You kept going on about your ears and stupid stuff," she blinked in realisation, "you thought I didn't fancy you. This you."

"Who would?" he said bitterly gesturing to his face, "I wasn't generated to be attractive, Rose. I was made to make decisions that no one else would or could. No matter the conclusion. I was a destroyer of worlds, a genocidal maniac. Who would love me?"

"I did," she looked him dead in the eye. "It didn't matter to me what you looked like. Not once."

"I know that. Now," he conceded.

"And what about you, Doctor?" Rose asked the man she thought she'd been travelling with.

"What?" he hedged.

"What?" Rose sighed, exasperated at his procrastination and general avoidance. "What did you have for breakfast, idiot! I meant what do I mean to you? What were you gonna say on Bad Wolf Bay? Were you even gonna try to look for me after or was 'impossible' just that for you? What happens now?"

"I don't know," he replied quietly. "I believed it was impossible to get to you. Or I would have tried, Rose, believe me. But the last thing I wanted was to get my hopes up." He breathed deeply. "Saying goodbye to you almost killed me and I didn't think I could handle it if I failed. That should say what you mean to me."

Even after all of this he couldn't say it and Rose closed her eyes against the hurt.

She knew he felt it, it was obvious. But why couldn't he form the damn words?

He wouldn't have said it unless he was certain he would never see her again which meant that he wasn't going to try no matter his protestations to the contrary.

Now that she was in his life would he try to get them back to the way they had been? Friends and flirting but no more. Could she handle that now that she knew?

Was this all there would ever be between the two of them?

The other Doctor came over and pushed him out of the way. "Rose?"

"Yeah?" she looked up into his intense blue eyes.

"I love you."

Rose blinked. That was unexpected.

"What?"

He grinned, that cheeky smile lighting up his harsh features. "You, my daft little ape. I love you. I didn't get to say it in my body and he won't say it in his. I love your badly dyed roots and clumpy mascara. I love your freckles and daytime soaps and the way you cry over Bambi. I love your optimism and the way you always wander off. I even love your stupid hoodies and off key singing." He paused. "I don't love your mum though."

Rose burst out laughing even through her sobs and reached over to hug him tightly.

"Ouch!" he hissed and Rose stepped back to see him clutching one of the many injuries he and himself had inflicted on each other.

She turned her head and saw that both Doctor's could hardly stand and there was no way that they could go another bout with each other. They had to find some way of solving this.

And by the abhorrence they shared it didn't look like there was going to be a peaceful outcome here.

"So what happens now?" Rose asked him sincerely, her eyes flitting from one man to the other. "Tosh said that there was too much conflicting brain wave…things. That means that this can't carry on, doesn't it?"

"It's impossible," the man in pin-stripes said and then winced at his own words.

Rose licked her lips. "So then what?"

"It's against the natural order of things," the Doctor explained, scratching the back of his head. "There can't be two of us existing in one reality; it's a paradox for starters."

"And paradoxes are bad," Rose nodded. "World goes bang."

"Makes a hole in the universe the size of Belgium," the ninth Doctor sniffed disparagingly. "It's not catastrophic. Unless, of course, you live in Belgium."

"The point is," the tenth Doctor glared at him, "that we both can't exist in one body. It burns up too much energy and it's just…wrong."

"Wrong like Jack?" sneered the leather-clad man maliciously.

"Shut up," bit out his alter-ego. "Can we deal with one universal anomaly at a time, please?"

"One of us has to go," wrapped up the ninth Doctor succinctly.

"This body ain't big enough for the both of us," agreed the tenth with a hint of western accent.

"Don't do that," Rose said with some distress at his attempted levity. "Just…don't."

"Right." The amusement fell from his brown eyes.

"Who stays and who goes?" she asked hesitantly.

"We don't know," he sagged. "He was here first but his time is gone. Mine only just started but he is stronger," off his counterparts' smug smirk he added, "for now."

"But if you keep fighting," Rose said sadly, "you'll both die."

"Then maybe it's time." The ninth incarnation had gleaming eyes, full of anger and loathing. "I won't let him go back with you, Rose. He doesn't deserve you. After everything I gave up to be with you… I'm not letting you go without a fight."

"But you don't belong here!" the pin-striped man exploded. "Your time is gone, you're holding to something that can't be. You're not supposed to be here!"

"If I wasn't here then Rose would still be trapped on the other world!"

The Doctor gritted his teeth. "And she'd be safe."

"Safe?" Rose interjected tersely. "From what?"

"Him!" the tenth Doctor raked his hand through his hair. "As he watched, I watched too, Rose. I could see that you were scared of him. He killed those men in the Tower of London; he would have killed Jack if he hadn't taken his hands off you. Around you…he's not safe. He's not _sane_. If he goes back then he'll stop at nothing to keep you by side for all eternity, no matter what you want and trust me he'll do it."

Rose blinked. "There are ways to do that? But you said—"

"Oh, there are. But not ways that I would ever use, Rose. Dark ways, ways that would have you twisted and black and nothing like yourself. These ways would warp your essence, destroy your soul until you're full of hate and anger and…just like him!"

He pointed his finger at his amused-looking younger self.

"Oh, ignore him, Rose. He's just sore because he can't tell you how he feels."

"Oh no?" The man in pin-stripes turned to Rose urgently. "I never thought you needed to hear the words, Rose. It never needed to be said for me. But if you need to hear them then I will tell you that, yes I love you. "

Rose's heart beat hard in her chest and she swallowed. "Yeah?"

His eyes softened. "Yes." He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss against her lips.

He was torn savagely away from her by the ninth Doctor, his hands clenched into fists and mouth hard. "Stay away from her!"

"You see!" the Doctor yelled triumphantly. "Even himself! He won't let me touch you."

"Did you kiss me to prove a point?" Rose asked in hurt disgust.

"No," he said with that uncomfortable edge which meant that the answer was probably closer to yes. Her palm itched to slap him.

Rose glowered. "You're such a—"

"Which is not the point," he interrupted hastily. "It doesn't make it any less true. He's insane."

"And he's a prat," the ninth Doctor folded his arms. "So, which one stays and which one goes?"

Rose shook her head desolately. "Are you really asking me to choose which one dies? I can't do that."

"Pick your favourite," he grinned widely. "The one who kisses you to prove a point or the one that would shatter universe to get to you. It's not brain science, Rose."

"But it is, though," anger and sadness warred in her expression. "Yeah, I've missed you. But I love you both. I thought it was the same person. You said you were the same person. I got that in my head. One and the same, yeah."

"But we're not, now." the ninth man said gently.

"You were my first Doctor, you took my hand and showed me the stars," a soft smile drifted over Rose's face. "We ran from Daleks and you gave me my dad back. You yelled at me and made me toughen up." She turned to the other man. "But we ran from werewolves and pieces of skin. You gave Mickey a purpose and you broke my heart. I can't choose. He's my Doctor every bit as much as you. He babbles and you grumble. Suits and jumpers. Blue eyes, brown eyes. None of it matters cuz you're still the same! Can't you…I dunno join together, become one or something?"

They gave each other a sidelong look and then back to her with obvious scepticism.

Rose shook her head in despair and then straightened. "I won't do it."

"Rose—"

"No." Her back was straight and her voice was firm. "I won't. Cuz whatever the outcome I'd know that I killed my Doctor and I can't do that. So I'm gonna make you choose. Because I know my Doctor and whether he wears a suit and talks crap at a million miles per hour or whether he wears leather and dances with me around the console, there always one thing that he does."

"What?"

Rose regarded them both sadly. "My Doctor always does the right thing, no matter how hard it is."

She took a deep breath. "So that's it. You make the decision yourself. Whoever it is that comes out of this… I'll be waiting. Just know that I can't choose because I love you both."

Taking one last look at the two men who held her heart in their hands she turned and walked away, going back down that dark path that led to the Torchwood medical bay.

The two men stood in silence as she left and then turned to face each other.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter. 18**

The bright lights of the medical facility hurt Rose's eyes almost as much as the tears that stung behind her eyes. Tears she refused to let fall. Rose Tyler did not cry over spilt…_split _personalities.

How could they have asked her to make that decision? The Doctor—both Doctors—had made a habit of steamrolling over her desires and making choices for her, believing that _he knows best_. Whether sending her home, deserting her on a space-station or leaving her in an alternative universe, he was the expert at not letting her make her own decisions.

He picked a fine time to let her choose her own destiny.

Bastard.

She sat up, ignoring the concerned and questioning looks from Owen and Jack, and rubbed her face with shaking hands.

"Rose?" said Jack in his deep drawl. "Is everything okay?"

She managed to shake her head and immediately wished she hadn't as a wave of nausea made her sway dizzily on the table.

"Whoa!" Owen reached for her shoulder and pressed her to lie back down. "Your electrolytes are off the chart right now. You need some juice or something to help."

Ianto paused in the doorway with his tray of tea-cups, glowered at Owen and walked back the other way muttering about juice.

Rose couldn't seem to lift her hands from her face, her mind going over and over what she'd seen inside her Doctor's head. Two of them and for so long she had the other one with her and she'd never known it.

She'd been falling again for her first Doctor. She'd kissed him and made love to him and now she wasn't sure who was going to come out of this telepathic coma. Would it be him; the slightly—ok, more than slightly—insane version of her caustic first love?

Or would it be the jubilant second man, the one who never shut up but never really said anything?

And which did she want, really?

Who was it that had slept with her and held her and loved her—did her second Doctor love her or had he really just wanted to prove a point?

Her head hurt just thinking about it.

"Rose?" Jack asked again and this time she raised her head to look up into those troubled eyes. "What happened?"

Rose opened her mouth and told him.

It was two hours later when Rose had finished telling the members of Torchwood all that had occurred since she had met the Doctor again. All those little cues and clues that she had dismissed as a result of transcending the dimensions had been explained and dissected by all of them.

Rose had looked away shamefaced when Jack's brow rose over her telling of their adventures in London. Why hadn't she done anything when she saw the way the Doctor was willing—more than willing—to kill now? What had held her back from taking him to task over those men's deaths? Was it that she had grown so hard over in Pete's world or had she been so insecure over her own place in the Doctor's life that she let it slide? Guilt bubbled in her stomach.

The confrontation between Rose and the two Doctor's had held them all spellbound with Toshiko running between Rose's telling and her monitoring machine, hoping to catalogue what this extreme form of split-personality looked like on her charts.

When Rose was all talked out they sat in silence, each trying to process all that had happened.

Typically it was Owen who was the first to break. "Two men in one body," he smirked at Jack, "you're ideal isn't it?"

Jack, for once, didn't appreciate the innuendo.

Gwen kicked Owen, for pleasure as much as annoyance and turned to Rose. "But I don't get it," she said in her melodic welsh accent. "If the next one only regenerates when the first one is dead then, then how come the first one is still around? Did he not die properly?"

Rose bit her lip. "I dunno, it was all a blur. I was in the TARDIS and he sent me home and then I was on the estate but then I was back on the TARDIS. I don't really remember any of it. The Doctor said I must have flown it back to him but I don't even know how. It's like the knowledge is forbidden so I don't know any of it," she bit her lip nervously. "But, you see, the thing is, he never explained what made him die. Was he hit with Dalek ray or was it something else?"

"It was something else," Jack stood abruptly and walked over to a corner of the room, staring through the glass partition to the empty observation room. He could see them all clearly in the reflection of the glass but he wasn't sure he wanted to face them.

Rose was staring at him with trepidation. "Jack?"

Jack hadn't wanted to say anything, but the years…the decades of keeping this to himself had boiled over. If he'd have thought that sharing it with the Doctor had helped to subdue it, he'd been wrong. It had been like letting the top off a bottle of fizzy pop and expecting the liquid to stay inside.

No.

He was fizzing and he was desperate to say something.

"You don't remember what happened on Satellite 5, Rose. But I do and the Doc told me the rest."

"So tell me," Rose demanded.

He looked at the mirror images of his friends and started from the beginning. "Me, Rose and the Doctor were on this Satellite station in the future. The human race was being manipulated by Daleks who had rigged this god-awful game show station. All your favourite shows with a deadly twist."

"What?" Owen scoffed. "Like Countdown with Jo Brand?"

"Try _The Weakest Link_ where you get killed instead of walking the walk of shame," Rose said with a glare at the man. "It ain't funny."

"Anyway we'd finally got free and mounted a defence. The Doctor was rigging up a delta wave to fry the Daleks and he knew it wouldn't be finished in time so he sent Rose home, back to the past."

"That much I remember," Rose nodded.

"You came back." Jack scratched the back of his head. "According to the Doc, you used a big yellow truck to rip open the heart of the TARDIS and absorbed the Time Vortex."

Rose blinked. "I did what?"

"All the power in the universe, Rose. You had it all inside you and you used it to fly the TARDIS, come back to the satellite and stop the Time War. You saved the Doctor, annihilated all of the Daleks—killed the Emperor and—"

He trailed off.

"And what?" Rose prompted.

Jack sighed. "You know the last thing I remember? Being surrounded by four Daleks, all pointing guns at me, ready to exterminate me from existence. With one breath they fired. It hit me. I died. Then all I remember is this golden light and this voice saying "I give life". Then I wasn't dead."

He turned and faced her, only her, taking in the confusion and growing dread on her face.

"According to the Doctor, you used the force of the universe to bring me back to life. But the human body…_nobody_ is meant to hold that kind of power. It was killing you, melting you from the inside, searing every atom. So the Doctor took it from you. He pulled the Time Vortex into his own body."

Rose blanched as she remembered words spoken long ago.

_I absorbed all the energy of the Time Vortex, and no one's meant to do that! Every cell in my body's dying. _

"I killed him. It was me." Pain was etched on every single line of her face. "He took it out of me and he regenerated. Oh, god it was my fault."

"Rose," Jack hesitated, not wanting to add this burden to her now, but there was no way that he could hold it in. she deserved to know. "The last act of the Time War was to bring life. You revived me…" he took a deep breath. "But you used too much power."

Devastated eyes turned to Jack. "What?"

"I can't die."

Rose blinked and shook her head, dazed and horror-stricken. "I don't—"

"I can't die. I've been alive for almost three hundred years. I went back to Earth and lived through the Dalek reconstruction. I came back to the twentieth century and I've lived through world war one, world war two, the sixties, the eighties, I watched you grow up." His voice was hollow but his eyes were damp. "And I've been killed. Shot, electrocuted, stabbed, drowned."

"Stop it."

"I've been killed every single way a person can be."

"Just stop."

His voice rose higher. "And I keep coming back. I'm like the damn coyote who can't die, Rose!"

"Stop it!" Gwen yelled again, her eyes darting from the screaming Captain to the woman who looked desolated by her side, cheeks saturated with tears. "Damn it, Jack. Just stop it. Look at her!"

Jack spun and saw the devastated look on Rose's face. Her face was ghostly white and eyes were full of anguish.

Guilt swamped him and he darted across the room, sinking to his knees in front of her.

"Rose?" he began but she shrank back, in as much fear as pain and he closed his eyes against the tempestuous emotions.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to… Rose?"

Rose opened her mouth but the words had been stolen. She half-choked on a sob and then slammed her eyes shut, her shoulders shaking.

God, what had she done? She'd killed her Doctor, abandoned Jack to his fate and then somehow destroyed Jack's life, stopped the Doctor from regenerating properly and sentenced Jack to live indefinitely.

She could hear him at her feet but didn't open her eyes.

Rose felt two arms go around her and she leaned into Gwen's embrace, accepting the comfort from the strange woman.

She couldn't bear to look at Jack; couldn't bear to see the man whose life she had ruined.

Another man's life.

"Rose, please look at me, sweetheart. I didn't mean to lay this on you right now. This isn't your fault."

"It is though," Rose cried against Gwen's shoulder. "I killed him, I've hurt you. It's all my fault. But I didn't know, Jack. You've got to believe me. I didn't know."

Jack knelt up and grabbed Rose's arms, yanking her out of Gwen's embrace and into his own. He held her even though Rose struggled against him. He murmured against her hair and rocked her until she grasped hold of his great coat and heaved huge breaths into his strong body.

It took a few moments for Rose to gather herself and she dragged in shuddering breaths, berating herself for allowing this weakness.

She was Head of Torchwood in her other universe and it was time she starting acting like it instead of blubbering on Jack's shoulder.

She gave herself permission to cry for three more seconds and quickly pulled herself together. Knowing what she had to do.

She finally pulled away from Jack and looked him dead in the eye.

"I never knew what I did while I was on that satellite, Jack. I'm not gonna apologise for bringing you back to life either."

Jack stiffened.

Rose stuck her chin up defiantly. "You're one of my best mates, Jack Harkness, and I love you. So, no. I ain't sorry for you not being dead."

A ghost of a smile lit up his face at the patented Rose Tyler expression.

"I _am _gonna say sorry for leaving you there and for making you live forever. Don't know how I did it and if I can reverse it…without killing you. Then I will."

Jack wasn't sure whether to be relieved about that or not.

Rose took another deep breath. "As soon as the Doctor…whichever it is, comes out of the coma. We'll start looking into ways of fixing you. Even if I have to dump you in the middle of the bloody Time Vortex myself."

The grin on his face became full blown at that. "Yes, ma'am. Gotta say I like this new feisty, Rose."

"Stick around it gets better," Rose poked her tongue out from between her teeth and wiped a hand over her face drying the tears away. "Right. So, Owen. I need you to keep a watch over the Doctor to see if he is any closer to waking up."

Owen jumped up, deliberately avoiding Jack's eyes as he responded to Rose's orders.

"Tosh can you check over the telepathic readouts, let me know if there is any change."

"Yes, of course," agreed the softly spoken woman and hurried back upstairs.

"Gwen," Rose smiled gratefully. "Thanks for helping me."

"No problem. I'll go order us some lunch," she added. "I, for one, am starving."

Rose nodded and glanced over at Ianto. "You make the best tea in the world…bar my mums."

Ianto gave her a big smile. "Thank you, miss. What can I do?"

"Hang around," Jack interrupted with a familiar glint in his eye. "I like the view."

"Eye candy," Ianto sighed. "It's a tough life."

Rose shook her head in mock indignation and opened her mouth to speak but before she could there was a clatter of feet and Gwen and Toshiko appeared in the doorway, both speaking simultaneously.

Rose's stomach churned and her breath was stolen at the two words that could spell disaster and heartache.

"He's awake."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Rose hurtled along the small corridor and down the stone stairs like her life depended on it and made it to the medical bay only slightly ahead of Jack and Toshiko. She paused at the top of the med-bay stairs and peered hesitantly over the balcony at the figure lying prone on the table below.

She heard the footsteps of the others coming up behind and yet couldn't tear her eyes away from the man who didn't look any different from how she had seen him last.

But then she noted the slight rise and fall of his chest and the way his eyes flickered in the cool air of the room and she caught her breath. She moved down the stairs like she was in a trance, ignoring Owen who was standing by monitoring the Doctor's vitals.

Despite Owen's presence she knew that Jack and the others wouldn't venture down the stairs to interrupt her until she had her chance to speak with the Doctor and find out exactly who had come back. She wasn't sure whether she was glad for their sensitivity or she wished them there for their support but it was too late to worry about things like that now.

With trepidation she waited patiently for any sign that the man she loved was awake.

"Doctor?" she whispered.

His eyes snapped open and she stared deeply into them.

Brown eyes.

Rose caught her breath and bit down on her bottom lip. "Hey."

He didn't seem to hear her, just stared up into the space above her, not saying a word.

Rose gave a quick glance up towards Jack's curious expression and then back down at the Doctor, who was now facing her directly.

She gave a tremulous smile. "Hi, Doctor. H-how are you feeling?"

He blinked.

Rose didn't know what to do. Was he in a catatonic state? Could he even hear her? Or understand her? Maybe the ninth incarnation had his wish and he had stopped them both from coming back to her. The thoughts and concerns raced around her head until she thought her brain might explode.

"Doctor!" she suddenly snapped.

He blinked again and then yawned widely. He sprung up from his place on the table like a jack-in-the-box.

"Rose!" he yelled in delight making her jump with his sudden ebullience. "I'm back, I'm here. We did it!" He leaped off the table and wrapped his arms around her. "Molto Bene! All done and dusted. Dusty and done."

"It worked?" Jack asked, jumping down the steps two at a time.

The Doctor held Rose away from him. "Jack! Jackedy-Jack Jack. Good old Captain Jack. And when I say old." He beamed broadly and engulfed Jack's hand in both of his. "Heard about the death thing. Sorry. Regeneration sort of put you out of my mind a bit. By the time I remembered you, you were integral to catalogued events and couldn't be moved. Should've come back and said something but well…" he pointed to his head. "Back seat driver."

"Right," Jack gave a lop-sided grin.

"No, really. Back seat driver, you should have heard him," the Doctor shook his head. "Nag. Nag, nag, worse than Rose's mother. Which reminds me," he swung around to look at Rose. "Shaun? Really? Rose and Shaun?" He shuddered. "Always said Jackie had bad taste. Oh, hello."

The Doctor looked up the stairs to the other four members of the group. "I'm the Doctor…the real Doctor. Gwen, Owen, Ianto and Toshiko, right?"

They nodded, amused and not just a little baffled by the turn of events.

"Team Torchwood," he beamed brightly and then glowered quickly at Jack. "That Rift manipulator needs destroying. You know that no one should harness that amount of power. It was only sheer luck that you didn't destroy both universes with that little stunt."

"The little stunt that got Rose back?" Jack said with one eye-brow raised.

"Well," the Doctor scratched the back of his neck and sniffed sheepishly. "I'll let you have that one. Although not knowing that I wasn't me does take you down a few points, Captain. Doesn't every Time Agent get training in possession and altered psyches? Tut tut, Captain. I'd punish you for that."

"I have a stop-watch," said Ianto without thinking and blushed as six sets of eyes landed on him.

"Right!" the Doctor bounced on his heels and grinned.

"Excuse me," Owen whined. "But what just happened?"

"It was your basic energy transference and dual disposition dichotomy," Toshiko explained in awe. "Manifestations of previous incarnations with eristical ideology simultaneously wishing to occupy the same domain. Duelling factions couldn't possibly exist within the same sphere so one had to be eradicated. The duelling incarnations either had to amalgamate, disseminate or triumph. Elementary science."

"That's it!" the Doctor agreed in delight. "Duelling dual disposition dichotomy."

There was a moment's silence.

Owen sighed. "Do I have to start making tea before someone makes sense?"

"Please don't," Ianto added. "You don't know where everything goes."

"Two personalities. One brain. Not enough room for both. They either had to mix, match or murder," Toshiko dumbed down for them.

"Why didn't you say that in the first place?" asked an irritated, but illuminated Owen.

Tosh was indignant. "I did!"

"See, this is why you don't get dates." He shot back.

"People!" Jack's voice was authoritative and they calmed back down. "So, Doc. What now?"

"Well, first things first," he plucked at his sleeve. "I need to change."

"Again?" Gwen blushed at her outburst. "Oh, gotcha."

"Then we'll see what we can do about you, Jackie-boy and then me and Rose need to have a long talk. Isn't that right, Rose? Rose?"

He turned around but Rose was no longer there.

Rose lay on her bed, trying hard not to think about what had just happened. She had accepted the hug from the Doctor in shell-shock but it got too much for her when he started to denigrate his former self.

She retreated back to the TARDIS even while he was congratulating himself on having escaped from the evil clutches of…

"_I've got you back but you need some time to make sure that this is what you want and you aren't just wanting a memory." He swallowed. "The last thing I want between us, Rose, is regrets."_

In fact he was acting like this was just another one of their adventures, talking a million miles an hour, asking about her brother's name for god's sake, but never actually saying anything.

"_I never said the words, but you know I do…right?"_

_Her heart melted. "Yeah, I do know. Don't need words."_

"_Tough," he breathed deeply. "Because you're going to get 'em. Rose Tyler…I love you. I love you, my stupid little ape. Despite the fact that you always wander off, you never stay put and you risk your life for me again and again."_

Not this time.

She hadn't made a choice. This time she had just let him go and she didn't even get to say goodbye.

Again.

Rose closed her eyes against the ache that was starting in her chest.

It had taken her so long to get comfortable with the fact that the man she loved had burned in front of her and morphed into a new man. It had taken ages to trust him and love him like she had before and even longer to come to terms with the fact that they were the same man.

Only to find out now that they hadn't been. Not really.

She had had him back for a few months and hadn't even known it and now he was gone again and she was left with—

"Rose?"

He was standing in the doorway behind her and she, somehow, knew that he wasn't going be kissing her anytime soon.

Or taking her to bed and acting like the bloody couple that everyone knew that they were.

In fact, she'd put money on the fact that he'd try to act as if nothing happened, that this was just another one of those things that they would never talk about.

She tried not to feel bitter about that, but it was hard.

She turned her head and gave a start at the outfit he wore in lieu of both the pin-stripes and the leather jacket.

"Blue?" slipped from her lips before she realised what she was going to say.

The Doctor looked self-consciously down at his new suit. The odd blue colour was probably going to take some time to get used to, but the red converse and white shirt set it off quite nicely, he thought.

He'd also decided that it would probably be easier for both if them to have something new, something that wouldn't continually jog their memories.

"Whad'aya think?" he stuck his hands in his pockets and grinned cheekily. "I think this could be my colour, what about you?"

Rose just nodded slowly, not saying anything else.

His eager happiness faded slightly and he shuffled his feet. "Uh, I think Jack wants to have a word with you. He said that you told him we could help with his little problem."

"Yeah?"

"Rose. I don't know if it's possible to change him back to what he was. The Time Vortex is powerful and not to be misused. Besides I'm not even sure how we'd get to it to alter him back, or if it's even possible. It could be that he's stuck or all the years catch up with him at once or nothing happens or—"

"The TARDIS," Rose interrupted quietly and his train of thought was derailed.

"What?"

"When Blon Fel Fotch looked into the heart it regressed her, gave her a second chance. You said that the TARDIS is telepathic. She likes Jack. If he looks into the heart—it can't kill him because he can't die. The TARDIS wouldn't hurt him and she'd know what to do."

The Doctor's mouth fell open and he gaped like a goldfish for a few moments. "Rose that's… you've…that's." He broke into the broadest grin she'd ever seen. "Rose Tyler you are brilliant!"

A weak smile tried to edge its way onto her lips but missed.

Brilliant. She was brilliant but not…fantastic.

She looked away from him and plucked at her bedspread with nervous fingers.

He wavered a moment, standing in the doorway seemingly unsure of whether to come in or walk away.

Rose placed bets.

She owed herself a million pounds as he turned and headed back for the door.

She looked up suddenly. "So, he's gone then?"

The Doctor froze and said in a clipped voice. "Yeah."

"Properly gone?"

He turned. "He had his time and he realised that the right thing to do was let you go."

Let me go. Let me down. Break my heart. Again.

She wanted to ask what would become of 'them'. She wanted to know if he would ever kiss her, ever hold her again, or if he'd just pretend it was all a dream.

Rose wanted so desperately for him to turn around and tell her that he loved her but knew that that would never happen.

Not this man.

"I'm still the Doctor, Rose," he insisted, hurt in every nuance. "I'm still me, even if I'm not him."

"That's the problem," she whispered but knew that he had heard her by the stiffening of his slight body.

He leaned against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and just stared at her. "I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry, Rose. But there was no other way. He wasn't right. You could see the encroaching madness creeping up on him. Holding on through the regeneration was starting to send him insane. It was his choice. Even he knew that he would eventually become a danger to you and he…_we_ couldn't stand by and let you be hurt."

Too late.

"Ok." Her voice was small and torn halfway between acceptance and anguish. She forced some control over it and continued quietly. "I'll come out in a minute and we'll see what we can do for Jack while on Earth. It'd be handy having the Torchwood medical bay on hand, just in case."

"Okay," he headed back for the door, halting just inside. "Rose?"

"Hmm?"

He seemed to deliberate and then just sighed. "I missed you and I'm glad we're back together again."

Rose closed her eyes as his footsteps retreated away through the TARDIS.

_a/n- Seriously, trust me, one more to go._


	20. Chapter 20

AN- Hey guys. This is it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you are all awesome. I hope that this a suitable ending which fulfils all expectations. ;)

**Chapter 20**

Gwen, Ianto, Owen, Rose, and Toshiko all crowded into the console room and watched as Jack and the Doctor had a last minute discussion on the dangers that could possibly await him.

"Remember the Slitheen," the Doctor said. "You could end up a child again."

"How would we tell?" Owen scoffed.

Jack shot him a look. "You'd be buying more diapers than donuts, stupid."

Tosh smothered a grin. "I think you'd make a cute child."

"Thanks Tosh."

"I could take you home," Gwen offered. "And Reese wouldn't hate you so much if you were shorter than him."

"He hates Owen," Ianto pointed out.

"Everybody hates Owen," Gwen shot back.

"Still here!" Owen piped up.

"Don't care," they all answered.

Rose felt her lips turn up in the first true smile of the day. They were so much like her own dysfunctional family it was quite funny.

"So open the drawer, bright light and I either get fixed or obliterated?" Jack whistled.

"Or turned into a gremlin," the Doctor gave them a bright smile. "Or a woman. This hasn't been tested, Jack."

"I think I could deal with being a woman," Jack seemed to think about that. "Hey, Rose, you could give me pointers about make-up and clothes. We could go shopping—try on lingerie."

"Stop it!" the Doctor warned, his voice cool.

Jack tried to catch Rose's eye but she was staring at the Doctor in confusion.

"All right, no time like the present!"

Jack straightened and leaned over, planting a little kiss on Toshiko's forehead. "If this doesn't work, Tosh it's been fun."

"Likewise," said the small Japanese lady.

"Owen," Jack paused.

"Yeah, whatever," Owen sneered and back away.

"Gwen," Jack kissed her on the lips before turning and making them all blush with his mouth on Ianto's.

When he pulled away he looked like the cat that got the cream.

"Doc."

The Doctor held his hands up. "You have to buy me dinner first."

Jack frowned. "I thought it was just a drink?"

"My prices have gone up."

Jack eyed the new blue suit salaciously. "Has the quality?"

"Find out," the Doctor smirked and Jack grinned widely.

"Cheeky."

His eyes lit on Rose and he reached over to touch her cheek softly. "Even if this doesn't work, Rose. You were still worth it."

He brushed his mouth briefly over hers, shooting the Doctor a second glance from beneath his lashes and made his way to the console.

"Ready?" The Doctor asked.

"Ready," he nodded.

"Starting her up."

The Doctor pressed buttons and yanked levers and pumped pumps in the time honoured tradition of looking like he knew what he was doing. Then, he reached over and touched a section of panelling. The little compartment on the other side of the console slid open and a soft yellow light pulsated from inside.

Jack took a deep breath and, after shooting one last look at Ianto, stepped forward and glanced down. His whole face was bathed in glowing luminance; chiselled features glistening and blazing with external light.

The golden radiance seemed to hum softly, resonating in the console and Rose felt memories stir inside her; an awareness of the song and the being that was singing rousing sensual feelings of power and adoration.

It was the TARDIS. The TARDIS was telling her that it was still inside her and that it cared.

It was an ocean of harmony, a river of song flowing through her; filling her with emotion and making her close her eyes as the beam got brighter.

It reached its crescendo and Rose felt a phantom hand reach out and grab hers before the song echoed away and there was nothing but silence in the control room.

Rose opened her eyes and had to blink as sun spots clouded her vision.

Jack was sitting on the control room floor, blinking and brushing tears away from his eyes.

"Wow!" he said in his deepest drawl. "If you could bottle that!"

"How do you feel?" Tosh asked him curiously.

"Like a million bucks."

Ianto frowned. "How do we know if it worked?"

Owen sniffed. "We could kill him?"

"How about something a little less permanent?" Rose offered acerbically as she rolled her eyes. "You heal, right Jack? So cut yourself."

Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a small hunting knife. He brought his hand up and sliced it across his thumb.

They watched with bated breath as blood welled up in the cut and slid down his palm, down his wrist and trickled to the floor.

They waited.

And waited.

"It's not healing." Jack started to grin. "It's not healing!"

He jumped up and let out an enormous cheer. "I'm human again, it's not healing!" he paused and his face fell quickly. "Son of a bitch that hurts!" he held his hand to his mouth and sucked the small cut.

"Baby," Gwen teased but her face was set in a smile.

Rose laughed as hard as the rest of them. "Congratulations, Captain Jack Harkness. You're as normal as the rest of us." She paused looking around. "Although that ain't saying much considering the crew you hang with."

Jack just beamed around the thumb in his mouth.

"All this happiness," Owen deadpanned. "I don't think I can stand it without some sort of nourishment."

"Pizza?" Gwen piped up and headed to the door of the TARDIS.

"Oh yes please," Tosh groaned in delight.

"I'll call," Owen offered, following them out.

"Just don't order under 'Torchwood'," Gwen's voice said somewhere in the distance. "Secret organisations aren't if the local pizza boy knows where to find you."

"I'll go stop them from ordering anchovies," Ianto said smoothly. "Glad to have you back, sir. Thank you, Rose. Doctor."

He walked away.

"I like him," The Doctor enthused. "He makes good tea?"

"He's mine!" Jack pointed menacingly at him. "You don't share your toys, I don't share mine."

The Doctor nodded cheekily.

"So guys, you coming back for food?" Jack offered lightly, looking from the uncomfortable Rose to the Doctor.

"Nah, I think we're gonna stay in here and…eat," the Doctor said haltingly. "We have jam…I think we have jam. And toast and tea and bagels and possibly mould. We'll be fine."

Jack looked at Rose again who just nodded.

"All right," he said dubiously. "Although if you guys sneak off again I'll expect you back in a week, ok?"

"Us, sneak off?" the Doctor shook his head. "Anyone would think you didn't trust us, Jack."

Jack just laughed as he walked away leaving the two of them to their uncomfortable silence.

Rose took a deep breath, and then another. The TARDIS's song was still inside her head and somehow the pain of losing the first Doctor again had lessened because she could almost feel his hand in hers.

His had been those phantom fingers and she knew them better than she knew herself.

He was gone and this time it was forever. But he had given her something so very precious in those stolen months that they had been together. It was something more than kisses and sex. He had truly given her himself.

He had given her all of him; heart body and soul and that was a gift that she would never forget.

Even if this incarnation would never acknowledge it, for one shining moment he had been hers completely.

Rose smiled softly. No one would ever take that away from her, not even himself.

"What's the smile for?" the Doctor asked happily, hoping that it had something to do with him.

"Oh, you know," Rose shrugged. "Sometimes life the universe and everything doesn't suck as much as you thought it did."

He searched her expression but found nothing in there to suggest that her words weren't exactly what she said.

"So what now?" he asked. "Where do we go?"

"We're staying here tonight," Rose decided. "We need to make sure that there are no adverse effects from changing Jack back. We can ask Tosh to monitor him psychically and Owen to check his vitals tomorrow morning. We then need to help Jack find some way of monitoring the rift and make sure that we didn't damage anything when I was brought through. Then we can think about moving somewhere else." Rose took a deep breath, realising that she had just told the Doctor rather than wait for him to make the decision…and it felt good.

He seemed to like it too.

"That's my little commander," he teased softly. "Issuing instructions for everyone to follow. What's my order?"

Tired and emotionally drained Rose tried to brush past him. "You'd never follow any order that I gave."

He grabbed her hand as she edged by him.

"Try me," he said and pulled her into his body bringing his lips down to slant softly over hers.

Rose felt the Doctor's arms snake around her and one hand disappeared into her hair as he pulled her body closer to his as he continued to assault her mouth, exploring and soothing her with expert ministrations.

Rose's jaw dropped in incredulity. The Doctor, _this_ Doctor, hadn't ever initiated intimacies before.

In fact he seemed to want to keep them as flirtation partners, rather than even try to go further. She couldn't believe that this was happening and so pulled away, staring at him in incomprehensible confusion.

She was going to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing. She was going to ask him if this was residual "ninth Doctor" or if he was regressing again. She was going to ask him if he was going to pretend that this never happened.

What she actually said was:

"Are you doing this to prove a point?"

He smiled down at her, lips swollen and heart-stopping look of adoration on his face.

"Only to you. Back in my mind you said something to me, Rose. Do you remember what it was?"

"Uh," Rose wracked her brains. "I called you an idiot?"

"Other than that."

"I was going to call you—"

"Other than that!" he interrupted before pausing. "You weren't very complimentary, Rose."

She scowled. "Did I have reason to be?"

"Ah," he grinned sheepishly. "Well what you said, Rose Tyler, in all your infinite wisdom, was that the Doctor always does the right thing."

"Yeah. So?"

"So has the right thing been to hold you at arms length because I'm terrified you're going to leave me? Has the right thing been to push you away because I don't know how to live without you? Has the right thing been to deny what we could have together?"

"No."

"No," he agreed, eyes glinting. He leaned closer and whispered three little words in her ear.

Rose closed her eyes as tears tried to well up.

He couldn't say them out loud, not just yet.

But soon.

Maybe.

With a feral smile the Doctor bowed his head and caught Rose's lips beginning a long series of drawn out kisses. They explored, appeased, and tasted each other with an intensity borne of long-repressed emotion. The gasp Rose gave when he nipped the velvety skin at the junction of her jaw, neck and earlobe was returned to her by the Doctor when she lightly scraped his earlobe with her teeth.

Hands reached for clothing but he suddenly pulled back, hair tousled from her searching fingers.

"What?" Rose asked urgently.

"Just you, finally getting to touch you with my hands. I don't want this to be about anyone but the two of us."

Rose eyed him dangerously. "If you are suggesting we wait until I'm sure. I may have to kill you now. Again."

He merely grinned as he backed away, letting his fingers slide over the TARDIS controls as he put her in sleep mode. "This going to be so great Rose."

"What?" Rose asked amusedly.

"You and me flying across the universe; partners, lovers, fighting injustice by day, together all night. The best of friends, the best of everything."

Rose smiled. That did sound pretty great.

He slipped towards the doorway beckoning her with a crooked finger and a sudden odd flash in his eyes.

"And it is gonna be _fantastic_."


End file.
